Hell Fire Quarry
by ldyjaydin
Summary: The Walking Dead meets The Twilight Zone in the old West. An AU take on our favorite characters inspired by HGRHfan35. In the isolated town of Quarry in 1863, scary things start happening around the drama of the inhabitants. Features the entire cast but romance focuses on Daryl/Carol. Rated M for death and sexual situations in later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**Hell Fire Quarry**

Welcome to a very strange story featuring our favorite cast in a unique setting! This story was inspired by HGRHfan35, an avid reader on this site, and Hiatus80, an amazing writer on this site (if you haven't read "Skin Deep" go read it right after this!) I admit that I am not overly familiar with westerns. My experience does not extend much beyond Brisco County Jr, Firefly/Serenity and Cowboys & Aliens. However, the western stories portrayed on The Twilight Zone are really what drive this story. It stuck somewhere deep inside me just how isolated they were. How when something eerie happened, which invariably did on that show, there was no way to call for help. Keep that in mind when reading this story.

I do not own The Walking Dead or The Twilight Zone but I love those who do.

**Chapter 1**

"_There is a fifth dimension beyond that which is known to man. It is a dimension as vast as space and as timeless as infinity. It is the middle ground between light and shadow, between science and superstition, and it lies between the pit of man's fears and the summit of his knowledge. This is the dimension of imagination. It is an area which we call the Twilight Zone."_

_I am the presenter of this story, Rod Serling, coming to you beyond the veil. The story is about a group of people who must ban together against an unimaginable threat. To you, these people will be familiar. They have already stumbled into The Twilight Zone before, battling undead monsters with endless appetites for the living. Yet, they have now come further into the landscape of The Twilight Zone to tell a new tale of mystery, horror, friendship, love and bravery._

_ "This drama takes place in the little western town of Quarry which sits on the very edge of the American territories of Colorado and New Mexico. An isolated site, it is almost exactly between Denver and Santa Fe, putting it 200 miles in either direction from the nearest railroad line. The year is 1863, the height of the American Civil War, where the North and South battled over slavery and state versus federal rights. Quarry is far removed from the action of this war but still touches them at times._

_Let me introduce our cast of characters:_

_-Sheriff Rick Grimes is the law of this town. He takes great pride in protecting the people of Quarry, seeing them as an extension of his own family. He is devoted to his wife, Lori and son Carl._

_-Deputy Shane Walsh has always backed up Rick but he has become bored with the easy routines of Quarry. His eyes have turned where they do not belong._

_-Ed Peletier owns a farm on one end of town. His drinking and gambling have practically thrown the farm into ruin. His wife Carol helps by being the school teacher for the children, including their daughter Sophia._

_-The Dixon brothers, Merle and Daryl, live on the outskirts of town. Merle works as a farm hand for Ed, a boss he despises. Daryl is a hunter and does odd jobs around the town. He has a trading relationship with the nearby Native American Sioux tribe._

_-Dale Horvath is the spunky old man who owns the General Store. Along with his Asian assistant Glenn Rhee, they keep the town well-stocked with essentials._

_-Andrea Holden runs the Quarry saloon and boarding house, which caters to the locals as well as the rare visitor to town. Her bartender, Theodore Douglas, is affectionately known as T-Dog. As a freed slave from Georgia, he has made a new life in Quarry working for Andrea._

_There are other familiar faces that will turn up in Quarry, including those original hungry inhabitants that have followed our heroes this far. Watch out because our heroes are about to come face to face with their worst nightmares…in the Twilight Zone._


	2. Chapter 2

Now that our introductions are over, let's get into this wild western Walking Dead story! Thanks again to HGRHfan35 and Haitus80 for beta reading! Please forgive any mistakes or anachronisms as I am unfamiliar with this setting and time period. Research only goes so far. Even though this chapter is lacking in it, I promise there will be Daryl/Carol soon.

I do not own The Walking Dead or The Twilight Zone but I love those who do.

**Chapter 2**

Sheriff Rick Grimes stepped out of the little sheriff's station and breathed deeply of the fresh morning air. It was cool out but spring had finally come and the chill of winter had vanished. The sun shone brightly, giving hope for a good day. Birds chirped as they flitted through town and pecked at the dirt streets.

The building behind the sheriff served as the center of law enforcement for Quarry. Yet, it was really just a room with a desk at one end, a double jail cell at the other and a large locked gun safe. In a town as small and remote as Quarry, they rarely needed law enforcement. Some might think it boring but Rick preferred to think of it as keeping a very happy peace.

As he stepped into the road that ran along the main thoroughfare of the town, Rick began his morning ritual of checking in with all the businesses. His deputy, Shane Walsh, usually performed the same task in the evening as everyone was closing up for the night. Well, everyone except for the saloon that stayed open late.

Rick pulled open the door to the General Store, which also served as the town's post office. He smiled as the wise, grey-haired owner Dale bustled around the store.

"Good morning, Sheriff!" the man called to him, bringing a sack of sugar to a growing pile on the counter. He pulled out a pencil from behind his ear and marked off a number in his registry pad. "Just got a huge shipment of provisions yesterday. We should be well stocked for the next couple of months until the next supply wagon rolls through. I do have mail for you, if you don't mind waiting a few minutes for me to finish sorting this order out."

"Sure thing, Dale. Mind if I help myself to some of your coffee over here?" Rick gestured to the coffee pot past the counter.

"Oh yeah, it's the good stuff," Dale commented as he made one more check of the list then turned his head toward the back room. "Glenn, got a delivery for you!"

Glenn stuck his head through the doorway. "Okay boss, where to? Oh, hi Sheriff! Didn't see you there." The slim Asian man came into the room pushing a wheelbarrow and began loading all the various supplies.

Dale glanced over at Rick, a sly smile on his face. "Doc Greene's place."

Rick tried to suppress his own smile as he saw Glenn's face light up with delight for just a moment before he slipped a nonchalant look back over his features. "No problem. Any mail for them?"

Dale went behind the counter, rifled through a mess of papers and drew out several envelopes. Handing them to Glenn, he held up his finger to delay the boy for just another moment.

"Got something else for you to take with you," Dale said as he opened a box hidden underneath the counter.

Glenn peaked over and took a sharp intake of breath. "Chocolate!" he exclaimed. Such luxuries were rare in Quarry. He licked his lips as Dale placed one piece of the sweet candy in a wax paper sheet.

Glenn reached out for it but Dale pulled his hand back, out of the eager man's reach. "Hold a second. I want you to know that I am giving this chocolate to you for being such a hard worker. I could not have asked for a better employee than you. Giving you a chance was the smartest thing I've ever done," Dale told him proudly.

They both briefly thought back to the day when Glenn stumbled into Quarry, dehydrated and out of food. He'd been born in San Francisco and gotten swindled into a job as a railroad laborer with many others from the Asian community there. It had been hell building the tracks right through the Rockies and when Glenn realized the foul treatment was never going to let up, he'd abandoned them in Denver. Walked with nothing right into the wilderness. He would have been a goner if not for hitting upon the little settlement.

"Thanks boss!" Glenn said happily, reaching for the chocolate again but Dale pulled his hand back more.

"Now don't be too hasty. Remember, there might be a certain young brunette who may fancy you sharing a piece of this candy with her," Dale advised him.

Glenn looked at him intently, nodding his head slowly. Rick could not help but stifle a chuckle. Everyone knew the Asian man had his eyes on the vivacious Maggie Greene.

Dale handed him the wax paper and Glenn placed it into the wheelbarrow carefully. Then he was off in a hurry towards the Greene farm. The two men watched him leave and then had a good natured laugh at his enthusiasm.

Getting back to work, Dale handed Rick a stack of papers then began shuffling the envelopes. "Those are the new Wanted posters."

Rick flipped through them, glancing at the pictures and reward amounts. Cattle rustlers, bank robbers, fraud. Half of them were the same troublemakers he'd heard about with the last supply wagon. None of them came near Quarry it seemed.

He stopped when he came upon a new set of pictures. Big letters advertised MURDER. Two hand-drawn faces looked back at him, names listed underneath. Tony was a fat man with a broad nose and beard. Dave had a boyish charm about him but his eyes were mean and hard. The paper went on to report that these men had murdered a cattle rancher just north of Santa Fe and raped his young daughter. There was also suspicion that they had kidnapped or killed a young farm hand, Randall. A $10,000 reward was being offered. Along the bottom, more large letters stated DEAD OR ALIVE.

Rick squinted at the pictures, feeling like he may have seen these two before. Had they been in Quarry? He would have to make sure Shane reviewed this.

Absentmindedly, Rick took the envelopes offered by Dale and went to walk out of the store.

"Hey Sheriff, one more thing," Dale brought him back to reality. Rick nodded for him to continue and Dale looked a little nervous about whatever he needed to bring up. The older man licked his lips and then said, "I may have a problem with the Peletier farm. Ed's tab is dangerously in the red. Carol has been giving me as much money as she possibly can from teaching, which is the only reason I haven't cut them off yet. But if I keep seeing him gambling away in the girls' saloon every night, I'm going to be forced to do it."

Frowning, Rick nodded his head. Ed Peletier was becoming a problem. Andrea over at the saloon had already complained about him causing issues with other customers there. "Thanks for the heads up, Dale. Let me know before you plan to tell him."

Dale nodded and walked Rick out the door. Across the street, he saw Andrea sweeping dust off the wooden planks of the saloon's porch. She paused, smiling pleasantly at him as he strolled over to her.

"Good morning," he greeted her, as he did every morning. "Any boarders?" These were a rarity in Quarry but he liked to keep up on any strangers that may cause trouble. His mind flashed to the murderers on the wanted poster.

"Actually, we do have one!" Andrea reported cheerfully. "He's a reporter from New York City doing a story on settlement life in the territories. The man is totally a city boy and I'm amazed he actually survived traveling on his own from the train in Denver to here. He seems so very refined. But he's got spunk and dedication so I can admire that. He will probably want to interview you and probably Shane too. Maybe Carol about education out here. You in?"

"Sounds interesting," Rick murmured. He'd never been interviewed before and wasn't so sure how interesting the readers in New York City would find Quarry. He hoped nothing too intriguing would happen while the reporter was visiting. "What's his name?"

"Milton."

A window on the second floor opened and a pretty blond head stuck out. "Hi Sheriff!" cried Amy.

Rick waved and then she disappeared. He then thanked Andrea for the news and continued on his rounds. He walked through the stables behind the saloon, greeting T-Dog as the man cared for the horses. He couldn't help but think highly of the black man for escaping slavery in Georgia. He'd gotten lucky with a generous owner that granted all his slaves freedom when he was on his death bed. T-Dog was smart not to remain in the south, staking out into the territories.

After checking in at the few other shops composing the main street of Quarry, Rick went back to the police station. Dropping the wanted posters and mail on the desk, Rick sat back in the chair, putting his feet up for a moment of relaxation before he began cleaning the guns and inventorying the ammunition.

Suddenly, the door slammed open and a dark man ran in, panting heavily. "Sheriff, help!"

Rick was out of the seat in the blink of an eye. "What's happened Morgan?' he questioned. Morgan Jones owned a farm on the eastern side of town. It was one of the most profitable farms in the area and some of the people in the outlying areas did not like a black man producing more than them. Even though Morgan was never a slave, having come from Pennsylvania, some of the southern transplants stuck to their backwards ways. A few times Rick had to break-up trouble at the farm. However, it had been quite a while since the last incident.

Morgan sucked in breath then blurted out, "A body! There's a dead body in my wheat field!"

Rick's eyebrows shot up in surprise. This was not a normal occurrence. "Go wake Shane up and I'll meet you out there!" Rick ordered Morgan. Shane lived in the little house behind the station and worked the night shift but Rick thought this warranted his attention, especially considering the annoying grumblings the man made about how boring this town was. Dead body sure ain't boring.

Morgan nodded and ran out the back while Rick headed over to the farm nearby. He came to the farm house first, noting Morgan's wife on the porch and she appeared distressed. She had good reason.

"Go back in the house, Jenny," he yelled at her. Then he added, "Is Duane in school or is he here?"

"He's in school," she told him.

"Good. Go inside until we make sure it's safe out here," he told her. She stepped back through the front door.

Rick drew his gun, prepared for anything as he walked carefully into the wheat field. Even though the wheat was only at waist-height, it was still difficult to see through it. About halfway across, the stench of rotting flesh struck his nose.

The sight before him was horrific. He was fairly certain the body had been a man but that was guessing based on the size and height of it. It looked like it had been chewed up, ripped apart. Blood soaked into the ground and bones shone through patches of ragged tissue. Flies buzzed noisily around it.

Shane and Morgan ran up behind him.

"Oh my god, what the hell happened?" Shane spat out as he covered his mouth and nose.

"Was it coyotes?" Morgan asked.

Rick examined a large backpack over to the side, a dismembered arm still attached to it. "Not sure. There's still some dried provisions in this bag. I'd have thought coyotes would have finished those off too. Plus, if this guy was able to carry around this pack, he probably wasn't old or sick. Coyotes don't usually bother healthy people that can fight back."

"Then what the hell would have done something like this?" Shane shot back.

Rick had no answer for him.


	3. Chapter 3

Thanks for all your wonderful reviews! I know this is not the kind of story for everyone but I am glad some of you like it. For this chapter, I did some major research on settler tradings with Native Americans as well as crossbows.

I do not own The Walking Dead or The Twilight Zone but I love those who do.

**Chapter 3**

Daryl Dixon easily maneuvered the reins of his horse over the rocky ridge and into the expansive valley below. The sky above was deep blue, completely devoid of clouds. Three men on horseback waited for him patiently in the middle of the valley, plains grass waving gently around the horses' legs.

He sat upon Sky, his American Paint horse. She was not young, almost 10 years old, and he'd gotten her for a good price three years ago. Her name had been Sassy at that time but Daryl found it didn't suit her. There was nothing sassy about this good-natured mare who was steady on long-distance travels but could still gallop when needed. He had changed her name to Sky because of the unique markings along her body. She was completely white from her head down over her body, which sharply met the chestnut brown of her legs and tail. She was completely devoted to Daryl, his favorite companion that never caused him grief and seemed to enjoy his long periods of silence.

The Sioux tribesmen slid off their horses as Daryl approached. The red man in front wore an intricately woven headband with a trail of feathers down his long black hair. The other two were younger men and had no headbands. Daryl had learned when this arrangement first started that he was not dealing with the chief of the tribe but one of his favored braves. The younger ones were there as back-up and pack mules.

Walking Bird, the leader of the group, gestured with his hand towards Daryl's back. Daryl smiled, knowing exactly what he wanted. Carefully, he pulled the strap over his head and presented the crossbow to them. They examined it carefully, as they always did. He kept his hand firmly on the grip as he didn't quite trust them entirely.

Daryl had a feeling the crossbow was the main reason he'd been able to establish a trading relationship with the skittish Sioux tribe. They had never seen a weapon like it. In fact, most people in the country had never seen anything like it. Despite the fact that the crossbow had been used in Asia, Greece and Europe for centuries, for some reason it had not gained any popularity in the western hemisphere.

Memories flashed through his mind of when he'd first encountered a crossbow. He'd been a teenager and a traveling circus had come through town. He and his brother Merle had gone, enjoying the animal acts, freak show and acrobatics. Daryl had been very curious about a tent claiming to display wonders from the ancient world but Merle had just laughed at him. Daryl had to sneak back a few days later to satisfy his curiosity without getting harassed by his brother.

He'd been fascinated by little coins from the Roman empire, pottery pieces from the Middle East and models of the great pyramids in Egypt. Yet, what captured his attention most was a crossbow. It was supposedly from the Battle of Hastings in 1066, recovered from a fallen British soldier. Unknown to Daryl was that this was only a replica of the true crossbow, which was displayed in a prominent museum in London. However, it wouldn't have made any difference to him because he was entranced by the design of it. After numerous questions that were starting to annoy the carnie running the tent, he drew Daryl a rough sketch of the pattern of the weapon. It took years of work and practice before Daryl was able to create the perfect effect from his own crossbow. He still carried a gun but his heart was with his perfected creation.

Walking Bird nodded his approval of the crossbow, signaling that they were satisfied and ready to commence with trading. Daryl slung the strap over his back again and pulled out the bag of trading goods. He and Dale had a very beneficial mutual agreement that Daryl handled the trading while Dale handled selling to the supply wagon that took the goods back east. They split the profits 50/50.

The large sack contained a generous amount of coffee beans, a small bag of tobacco leaves and a large jug of moonshine. The last item did not come from Dale but from Daryl and Merle's own brew. Daryl had slipped it in once near the beginning of their trading experience and the tribe had clamored for more. They referred to it as "firewater."

After a careful inspection of these goods, the red men showed off their items for trade. There was an extremely large Buffalo pelt, which must have come off a full grown bull. It had been tanned and was in great condition. There were also several horns that had been carved into elaborate designs of animals and landscapes. Turned out that these carved horns were getting very popular back east. Finally, there was a small sack of colorful beads that had been hand-crafted.

Daryl nodded to them, showing the acceptability of these offered wares. He carefully rolled the pelt and secured that and the sack on to the back of his saddle. Just as he was about to climb back on Sky and head back to town, a voice stopped him.

"Hold," Walking Bird said.

Daryl turned back to them. It was rare that they ever actually spoke to each other with words. Luckily, Daryl was an expert at communicating with body language. When they first started, Walking Bird did reveal that he had a grasp of the English language but it seemed like he didn't like advertising this fact, including to Daryl.

"Warning. Wendigo invading land," he stated earnestly. His arm swept out in front of him, conveying all the lands around them.

"Wendigo?" Daryl did not know this word.

Walking Bird looked down, trying to think of the appropriate words. Then he looked back at Daryl, seeming to know what to say. "Demons. Eat man flesh. Dangerous."

Daryl frowned. "There are demons that eat people invading our lands?"

"Yes."

Daryl wasn't sure what to make of that but he was not about to dismiss it off-handedly. Even though the native peoples tended to be superstitious, for them to actively warn him seemed greatly important.

"Thanks for the warning," Daryl said sincerely.

"Warn others," Walking Bird stressed.

"I will."

All four of them climbed back on to their respective horses, nodded farewell and Daryl turned back in the opposite direction of them. As he rode back to town, he basically let Sky follow the way she knew as his mind wandered back to the unexpected warning. While he didn't necessarily believe it, he did feel a touch of dread thinking about demons that devoured human flesh out in the countryside.

These thought vanished as he rode into town, tying Sky up outside the general store. It was like coming back into reality. Dale was very pleased with the Sioux goods, especially the exceptionally large Buffalo pelt. He felt sure it was going to pull in a great price. Dale handed over Daryl's share from the recent supply wagon, which Daryl pocketed without counting.

Before he left, Daryl asked Dale about the warning.

"You ever hear of a Wendigo?" he questioned, feeling kind of stupid for even asking.

Dale shook his head. "Can't say I have, son. What is it?"

"The Indians that I trade with said they were demons that eat human flesh. Said they were invading our land." Daryl wished he hadn't even mentioned it when Dale's face registered surprise. "Probably just superstition," he mumbled and left the store.

As he rode down to the run-down little house he shared with his brother, he let Sky lead the way as he counted his profits from Dale. It was a nice sum. He never let his brother know just how much he made from that arrangement. He did pay his brother generously for the moonshine, which Merle cooked up for him. Daryl considered treating them both to supper down at the saloon one of these nights. Andrea made a mean beef stew that would taste so good compared to their usual squirrel and rabbit meals.

After putting Sky back in her pen and giving her a fresh carrot for her trouble, he headed over to the Peletier farm. He wanted to find Merle, make sure the man was doing his job. It wasn't like there were so many jobs in this town for unskilled laborers like them and Merle had already lost several jobs since they'd moved to Quarry a few years ago.

Daryl checked the fields and the cow barn but no Merle. He knew Merle wouldn't be up at the house, considering he avoided Ed as much as possible. Even though he was the boss, neither Dixon could stand being around the arrogant prick. As he peeked at the chicken coop, he signed out a breath of exasperation seeing that the birds had not been feed yet. He grumbled angrily at his brother's incompetence as he grabbed the nearby feed and generously threw handfuls to the hungry birds.

Sticking his head into the hay barn, Daryl called out Merle's name in a frustrated whisper. He hoped Ed wasn't in there but there was no way to know with that man's erratic behavior. A lot of the time he'd be passed out in one of his fields at this time of the day. Daryl listened but no sound came to him. Luckily no Ed but where the hell was Merle?

He tried again, louder this time. "Merle!"

A loud snort came from the loft and Daryl stepped all the way into the barn. After a second, snoring could be heard clearly from above. Daryl rolled his eyes and made his way up the ladder.

There was Merle, soundly sleeping in the fluffy hay. His mouth was open and his arms comfortably resting on his chest. Daryl kicked him in the shin and Merle shot up.

"I'm just checking the hay!" he shouted reflexively. Daryl gave him a disgusted look and Merle looked very relieved to have his brother waking him up and not the boss. "Damn it, little brother! I thought you was Ed."

"What the hell you doin' sleepin'? Don't you know you need this job? I am NOT movin' again!" Daryl admonished his lazy brother.

"Calm down. Ya know Ed don't really care what I do as long as I get everything done. 'Sides, I was getting up anyway. Bout time to milk ol' Bessie." He gave Daryl an infuriating smile as he went down the ladder.

Daryl just sighed angrily.

"Oh yeah, forgot that I gotta ask you to go fix the water pump over at the school house. Carol asked if you could come by today or tomorrow for it," Merle told him.

Daryl felt his stomach twist at the mention of Carol's name. He didn't know why, but the wife of Ed Peletier twisted him into knots. He couldn't even talk to her. He knew the creep treated her like dirt and it made him want to punch the man repeatedly.

"Okay," Daryl acknowledged. Then he remembered the warning. "Hey Merle, you ever hear of a Wendigo?"

"Nope. What is that? Really fucked up whore?" Merle laughed at his own joke.

"It's a demon that eats human flesh. The Indians told me they're invading our lands."

"Well, shit. That don't sound like a fun way to go," Merle said as the two men exited the hay barn.


	4. Chapter 4

Thanks for all your wonderful reviews! I love you people!

I do not own The Walking Dead or The Twilight Zone but I love those who do.

**Chapter 4**

Deputy Shane Walsh sat at the large wooden desk in the sheriff's station. He was carefully writing out his report about the mangled body found that morning on Morgan Jones' farm. Once he got it approved by Rick, he would recopy it. One copy would be kept at this station and the other sent to Denver, the nearest city with a large court house.

Shane resented that there was only one desk. Even though it was technically supposed to be a communal desk, the entire atmosphere around it screamed Rick. He felt like he was a bystander and it pissed him off. Bad enough that this crappy little town was usually so dull but he didn't even merit enough to get his own desk!

He had to admit that seeing that body this morning was exciting. Nobody had any idea what would have done something like that. Probably really were coyotes, even if they left behind the rations in the pack. He wished it had been a person, an outlaw that he could string up on the gallows outside of town. There had not been a hanging in Quarry for more than a decade. Not since those cattle rustlers murdered Doc Greene's farm hand. Shane had been a teenager then but watching the former sheriff sentence those men and carry out their execution had been inspiring to him.

It irked him to no end when Rick had been made sheriff over him. They had both been deputies under the former sheriff and that stupid old man had chosen Rick to succeed him. It was true that Rick was slightly older, more level-headed and truly did give a damn for the people in this settlement. But, damn it, Shane wanted to be the one with power.

His eyes went to the wanted posters. If he were in charge, there would be a lot more active pursuit of those lawbreakers in his territory. His eyes caught on the two murderers who had raped that young girl. Oh yes, if he were in charge, they would pay with their lives.

The door squeaked open, announcing a person entering the station. He hoped it wasn't Rick. He wasn't done writing his report and he sure as hell wasn't giving up the desk yet.

His head came up and he beheld a beautiful sight.

Lori Grimes walked in the doorway, up to the edge of the desk. Her long brown hair was pulled away from her face with an ivory clip and flowed down her back. She wore a dress typical of the day, tight bodice buttoned up to her neck and a long, full skirt. Yet, her dress had some fancy touches; lace around the neckline and wrists as well as a bright pink color. Less drab than the typical dresses worn around this town.

"Good day, Shane. Is my husband here?" Lori asked, her voice pleasant in his ears.

"Sorry, he's still investigating that dead body over at the Jones' farm. I think they were preparing it to take over to Doc Herschel for burial," he informed her as he got up from the desk.

"Oh, such a horrible tragedy! The whole town is whispering about it. Was it someone we knew?" she asked, fingering the lace at her collar.

Shane could not take his eyes off her long, graceful fingers manipulating the fine material. "No, just a traveler. He had a very large pack with him." She took two large steps towards her.

She backed up, eyeing him warily but keeping her voice light. "I heard that coyotes might have done it. Should we be worried about the children?"

He followed her as she backed into the wall next to the door. "I think you may want to keep a close eye on Carl. He and his friend Sophia do tend to go exploring on their own a lot." His hand came up and captured hers, stopping her from fiddling with the lace.

She took a sharp inhale and they stared at each other, their faces close together. Blinking, she looked away from his intense features. Nevertheless, she could still feel his hot breath on her cheek. "Shane…"

His fingers came up and gripped her chin, pulling her eyes back to his. "Tell me you don't feel this…" he paused, finding the right word. "This connection between us." He moved closer, his body just barely touching hers. "Kiss me," he commanded.

Her expression was conflicted. He could tell she wanted to but she also wanted to stay loyal to Rick. He rubbed his thumb along her jaw bone and her breath caught.

Suddenly she crushed her lips into his. The kiss was passionate and made him want more.

Her hands came up, twisting in his shirt but then firmly pushing him away. Just as suddenly as it started, it was over.

"No!" Lori shouted, pushing him harder away from her. She turned quickly and flew out the door. It slammed loudly behind her.

Shane touched his lips, slightly swollen from the intensity of her kiss. He smiled, a chuckle escaping him. It bloomed into a full laugh and soon he couldn't stop himself, collapsing into the desk chair as great peals of laughter exploded from him. Yet, it wasn't a good-natured laugh. It was full of maliciousness.

Taking Rick's desk and Rick's job was not all Shane wanted to take.

**XXXXXXXX**

The afternoon was beginning to slip away as Daryl made his way to the schoolhouse. He had his pack of tools slung over his shoulder. It was a quaint building, just one room. Yet, Carol had made it look friendly an inviting by keeping the white walls and blue shutters freshly painted. She even had painted little flowers on a twirling vine around the front door.

Even though she only had eight children in her class, her students adored her. Most likely it was because they knew how much she cared and put so much effort into their education. Even Beth Greene, who was actually old enough to be finished with the littler schoolhouse, stayed on to continue her education and help with the younger students.

Daryl paused across the yard as the door opened and the children came running out. Three of the boys were playing tag, laughing happily as they ran past him hitting each other. He knew the dark-skinned boy was Duane Jones. His father owned another one of the smaller farms in Quarry. Well, small in comparison to the massive Greene cattle ranch.

Two young girls holding hands and whispering back and forth ignored him as they also moved through the yard. The next two children out the door he recognized also. It was the sheriff's boy, Carl, along with the Peletier girl, Sophia. Carl seemed to eye him warily but Sophia gave him a shy smile. He knew from Merle that she did a lot of chores around the farm and even helped Merle sometimes with his. Daryl had almost fallen over once when Merle had said he liked the kid. He didn't find her a nuisance when she asked him questions about the world. He'd said she had a spark. Sadly, the spark seemed to vanish whenever she was around her cruel father.

Carl said something to her that he didn't catch and Sophia smiled. Carl took off in the other direction from his classmates. Sophia gave Daryl a little wave and then ran after Carl. Daryl shook his head, a smirk on his lips. He could see why Merle liked the kid.

Daryl walked around the side of the school to the water pump. It'd had problems before with the handle getting stuck so Daryl tested it. Yep, that was the issue. He stood up and was about to reach into his pack when movement caught his eye. It came from the window in the schoolhouse.

He saw Carol but she had not yet seen him. She was straightening up the desks by the window and he could not help but to stare. Her dress wasn't fancy like some others, like the Sheriff's wife. It also did not show a lot of skin, like Andrea and Amy's dresses down at the saloon. It was modest, a muted green color with a thin brown belt around the waist. To him, it was perfect. It hugged her in a way that showed off her curves.

She moved away from the students' desks and sat down at the larger teacher's desk in front of the room. It looked like she was reading something, concentrating hard on it. He watched mesmerized as she bit her bottom lip, pulling it in with her teeth. She must have read something amusing because a small grin came to her lips.

Abruptly, he realized that he had been standing there staring at her like an idiot for several minutes and mentally slapped himself. What the hell was wrong with him? This was his brother's boss's wife? He'd never been like this with a woman before. He pulled out his tool and got to work on the water pump handle.

Once he got it working, cool clean well water flowed out of it and he washed his grimy hands and face. Running his fingers through his unkempt hair, he walked to the door of the schoolhouse. Pausing at the door, he briefly pondered just doing this job for free for her. Then he could avoid the awkwardness of seeing her. It was like he turned into a mute around her despite her being so nice and respectful to him.

No, he resolved, he better not do that. Knowing her, she'd seek him out to pay him the money he was owed. Taking a deep breath, he pushed through the door.

She looked up and smiled brightly as he came in. "Water pump give you any trouble?" He shook his head, his eyes darting around nervously. "Good. Let me get you some payment," she said as she reached for her bag.

As she searched for money, his eyes flitted over a stack of books sitting on a table beside him. Usually he wasn't interested in books. Not having the ability to read, they were useless to him. However, this book had the picture of an Indian on the cover. It looked a lot like Walking Bird and he wondered if it mentioned anything about the Wendigo. He opened the front cover, opening for pictures inside.

"It's a book about Indian myths and legends." He startled, not realizing that she had come up so close to him. Not seeming to notice, she continued, "The kids love it, lots of stories from all the different tribes. You can borrow it if you want," she offered.

He closed the cover, stepping away from it and shaking his head.

"It's really okay. You can just bring it back whenever you are finished with it," she tried offering again.

He took another step away from her. His eyes went to her face for a brief second and then became glued to the floor. Her look was thoughtful.

"Can you read Daryl?" she questioned gently.

He could feel the blush creeping up his face, the blood making his skin burn. He was so close to just bolting, forgetting about the money she owed him.

"I could teach you," she proposed.

He shook his head vigorously no. Just thinking about his stumbling over words, sounding like a fool in front of her was more than he could bear.

"Okay. How about if I read it to you? You could come tomorrow after class ends," she suggested instead.

He wasn't sure what made him do it, whether it was the thought of spending time listening to her pretty voice or the prospect of hearing stories from a people that intrigued him. It didn't matter because the word came out of him before he fully analyzed what he was doing.

"Okay."

She blinked. It was obvious she was not really expecting that answer. He wondered if she realized it was the first word he'd ever actually spoken to her.

Then her smile returned full force and she looked beautiful. "Okay then."


	5. Chapter 5

So I know that the term "Indian" when used in reference to Native Americans (as opposed to people from India) is considered politically incorrect. However, that's how everyone talked back then so hopefully no one gets offended.

I do not own The Walking Dead or The Twilight Zone but I love those who do.

**Chapter 5**

Andrea headed to the little schoolhouse, her frilly skirt swirling around her legs. Other than her sister Amy, Carol was her closest friend and confidant in Quarry. She enjoyed talking with Carol about all sorts of things because the woman could be funny one moment, intuitive the next and a great listener whenever she needed it. She also knew Carol always felt better about unloading about her difficulties with Ed that she could not tell anyone else. Today, she did have a specific purpose for seeking out her friend.

The door to the schoolhouse opened and Andrea stopped, thinking Carol might be leaving a little earlier than normal. She was surprised when Daryl Dixon came out. He seemed distracted and then surprised by her presence when she neared him. He jumped a little but then nodded to her as he continued walking past her. Andrea turned and watched him follow the road towards his place.

Entering the building, she found Carol sitting at her desk, flipping through a large book. She flashed a smile her way, glad to see her friend.

"So was that Daryl Dixon I saw leaving here?" Andrea inquired slyly.

"Yes, it was. The water pump handle was stuck again so he fixed it," Carol said off-handedly.

"You gotta admit that he is one fine looking man. Especially when you watch him walking away," Andrea said with a smirk on her face.

"Andrea!" Carol said shocked before she started giggling.

Andrea joined in with her own chuckling. "Come on, admit it."

"Okay, I admit it. I doubt any woman wouldn't admit that he is good looking," Carol laughed. Then she eyed Andrea, saying "You know, you're both unattached. Maybe you could get him to court you." Carol was surprised by the flash of jealousy she felt after she said that. There was absolutely no reason she should feel that way.

Andrea just laughed harder. "Oh, I wish! After he moved here a few years ago, I tried putting every move on him that I could. He'd turn bright red, mumble that he had to go feed his horse and then run away. That man does not have eyes for me. At least now that I have stopped trying to flirt with him, he can talk to me in full sentences."

"You're lucky. He won't talk to me at all. I mean, he just literally said his first word to me. I'm not even trying to flirt with him and he acts like I'm trapping him in a corner. I don't think he likes me. I wonder if Ed said something nasty to him," Carol told her sadly.

"I highly doubt anything your idiot husband could say would scare Daryl Dixon off. Maybe he has a crush on you," Andrea stated coyly.

Carol burst out laughing, even harder than before. "You've got to be kidding! Why would anyone ever have a crush on me? Especially a guy like him who could get any woman he wants. When he could have a pretty woman like you who even owns her own business!"

"Hey, I don't want to hear that kind of talk. Maybe your husband doesn't see it but I know how beautiful you are and maybe Daryl does too," Andrea admonished her.

"You're forgetting the part where he won't even talk to me. Besides, Ed would kill me if he even thought there was another man."

Both of them looked away from each other, troubled.

Andrea spoke back up first. "How's it been with him lately?"

Carol sighed. "Worse than ever. He almost hit Sophia twice and I had to get between them." She rubbed at her shoulder and Andrea knew there must have been a wicked bruise under her dress.

"You should leave him. Come stay with me. I always have more than enough rooms open for you and Sophia," Andrea offered.

"I know. I want too. But I couldn't stay with you. I couldn't stay in Quarry. I'd have to run because if he ever found me, he'd kill me. He's already made that promise to me," Carol said in a voice laced with fear.

"Bastard," Andrea whispered. "One day he's going to get what's coming to him and then you'll be free of him."

"I hope I'm alive to see that day."

"You will be," Andrea assured her, hoping she was right. She shifted her body, changing the topic. "Actually there was another reason I came to talk to you other than just gossiping about Daryl Dixon."

"Yes?" Carol questioned.

"I have a guest at my boarding house. He is a reporter from New York City and he is doing a story on life out here in the territories. He even mentioned that if he has enough good information, he may even write a book. Since you are the school teacher here, he wants to do an interview with you about our education. What do you think?" Andrea asked her.

Carol looked thoughtful. "I would really like to do it. I just don't think Ed would let me. I think he's jealous of me being the school teacher here. Like it makes him look stupid or something. He's always threatening me that he's going to make me quit but he can't follow through or else we'd be completely broke. Sorry."

Andrea's heart broke seeing Carol's shameful expression. "I think I might be able to arrange it for you to do this interview with Ed's permission. I'll give you both free dinner and two free beers as payment. There is no way he'll pass that up. Especially since we know he's going to drink both beers."

Carol smiled at her. "You are so right. I'll do it!"

**XXXXXXXX**

The moon was full in the night sky, the air crisp and silent. All the living inhabitants of Quarry slept in their beds, some peacefully and some fitfully. None of them really knew what horrors may visit them in the future.

At the Greene farm, the monster slipped out of the corn field behind the main house. If someone was looking from a distance, it would appear to be an Indian. It was wearing buckskin pants and vest with shoulder length black hair. However, once getting closer, it would be obvious that this was far from a normal man. It was shuffling along in a most uncomfortable manner, the top half of him bent at an impossible angle. It was almost as if its back had been broken. There was a hole in his back with clotted blood still oozing out. Its eyes were grey and cloudy.

At first, it just shuffled aimlessly as no movement caught its attention. Then one of the chickens in coop made a fatal mistake, flapping her wings in an attempt to get more comfortable in her straw nest. The monster latched onto the noise and stumbled into the fencing around the chicken coop.

It pushed determinedly against the barrier, making grunting noises in anticipation of catching prey. The chickens noticed this intruder and became agitated, flapping around more. This drove the monster into a frenzy, pushing harder and harder on the chicken wire.

Finally, one of the nails securing it gave way and the monster fell forward into the chicken enclosure. The chickens squawked in fright as it reached out hungrily for them, capturing one poor chicken in its hands. As it ripped into the bird, the several others fled out of the fence it had just collapsed. The monster proceeded to devour every chicken that made the unfortunate decision of staying in the coop.

Once it was finished with them, it caught movement behind it and moved with purpose after the chickens wandering around the yard. It chased one of them into the barn and the monsters vision found a new prize.

The dairy cow fought for her life, mooing as loud as she could and kicking at the monster as it went after her. Unfortunately, she had been secured so she would not wonder and that sealed her fate.

After quite a while and she had stopped struggling, movement caught the monster's attention once more. Despite being grossly distended from such gorging, its appetite was never satisfied. Lurching forward much slower than previously, it pursued one lone chicken back through the corn field and out into the countryside.

The next morning, the entire farm was awakened by the hysterical screams of Beth Greene when she went out to feed the chickens.


	6. Chapter 6

Sorry, life has been crazy so I haven't had nearly as much time to write as I would like. Darn work getting in the way!

Please note that the Native American legend 'The Pact of the Fire' comes from the website www dot legendsofamerica dot com/na-pactoffire dot html. It is written word-for-word from there. I couldn't find a good Wendigo story so I made this one up.

I do not own The Walking Dead or The Twilight Zone but I love those who do.

**Chapter 6**

The news of the mutilated body at the Jones' farm along with the massacre of the chickens and dairy cow at the Greene farm spread through Quarry like wildfire. Carol had found out the dreadful news when two parents brought their children to the school house. Understandably, both Duane Jones and Beth Greene were absent that day. She went ahead with her planned lessons but she the whole day felt surreal, especially without Beth there helping with the younger students.

As the school day ended in the mid-afternoon, the children seemed more subdued than normal. Instead of running and playing, most of them were just talking amongst themselves as they headed home. Usually Carol stayed after class to so grading and work on lesson plans while Carl and Sophia would play after school. Then as evening approached, they'd go to their respective houses for supper. However, Carol was concerned with this unknown threat looming over the town.

"Sophia! Carl!" she called them over before they got to the door. Both of them came back into the classroom. "You both know what went on today. I want you to stay together at all times unless you are with someone you know. Do not play out in the woods today and do not talk with any strangers." Carol thought a moment. "Actually why don't you both go over to Carl's house? I'm sure your mom will make you two a snack, Carl."

Carl looked a little uncomfortable at her suggestion. "What if my mom isn't home? A lot of days she isn't. Sometimes she is cleaning the sheriff's station for my dad or getting our food from the Greene's farm."

"Well, if she isn't home then I want you to go to our farm. Sophia, you will check in with your dad or Merle. I want an adult to know where you are," Carol pressed into them. As little as she wanted Sophia exposed to Ed, she would rather the girl deal with his temper than be found ripped apart.

Sophia nodded her head, agreeing with her mother. Then she grabbed Carl's hand and the two of them ran for the door. Even with all the horror of the morning, they were still children who wanted to play out in the sunshine after sitting in class.

"Remember, no playing in the woods today!" Carol called after them. The town of Quarry had always felt so safe. People never locked their doors, children ran around playing happily without supervision and no one thought twice about walking down the street alone at night. Now those feelings had become insecure.

Carol walked through the room, straightening the desks and chairs. She glanced to the book of Indian Myths and Legends on her desk. She felt butterflies in her stomach at the thought that Daryl might actually come to hear her read him those stories. There was a lot of doubt that he would in fact show up in her head and she was knew she would be disappointed if he didn't come. There was just something about this man that refused to talk to her that so intrigued her.

Carol was surprise when he did come. She had almost given up on him and was just finishing her lesson plans for next week when a soft knock alerted her of his presence. There he was, standing in her open doorway. Even though she had noticed his good looks before, it was like she had to re-examine him after her little talk with Andrea yesterday. His hair was boyishly mussed and his firm jaw was clenched. His eyes were darting around the room, looking everywhere but at her. His lean body was tense and he was fidgeting a little.

Nervousness exuded from him. Carol had a hunch that if she made the wrong move, he would bolt. It was like he was a wild animal and she would need to go very slowly with him. She would talk softly to reassure him that she wasn't a danger.

"Hi," she said, smiling at him. "I wasn't sure you were really going to have time to just listen to me read but I'm glad you're here," she told him truthfully. Getting up from the desk, she moved a chair from the wall over. "You don't want to sit at one of the student's desks, right?"

He shook his head and moved stiffly over to the chair. She sat down first and he then he lowered himself into the wooden chair. He was on the edge, as if he was going to jump off and run at any second.

Opening the book, she flipped to a chapter that she had marked earlier that day. "Merle told me that you are trading with the Sioux Indian tribe nearby. So I figured you'd like to start off with one of the legends from them. Is that okay?"

He nodded affirmatively and she noticed him sit back just a little.

"This story is called 'The Pact of the Fire.' It is about how the first people and dogs came together." She took a breath and started reading in a clear and steady voice.

_When the world was created, First Man and First Woman struggled to stay alive and warm through the first winter. First Dog struggled also. Deep in the winter, First Dog gave birth to her pups. Each night, she huddled in the brush of the forest, longingly watching the fire, which kept First Man and First Woman warm. _

_ First Winter was severe, so cold that First Dog dared not leave her pups to search for food to fill her own belly, fearing that her pups would freeze to death in her absence. She curled around them, but the wind was bitter. _

_ Her belly shrank with hunger, and soon she had no milk. The smallest pup perished, and First Dog felt her own life draining away as she struggled to care for the remaining pups. Fearing for the fate of the others, she knew she had no choice but to approach the fire and ask First Woman and First Man to share their food and the fire's warmth._

_ Slowly, she crept to the fire and spoke to First Woman, who was heavy with child. 'I am a mother,' said First Dog, 'and soon you will be a mother too. I want my little ones to survive, just as you will want your little one to survive. So I will ask you to make a pact.' First Woman and First Man listened. 'I am about to die. Take my pups. You will raise them and call them Dog. They will be your guardians. They will alert you to danger, keep you warm, guard your camp, and even lay down their life to protect your life and the lives of your children. They will be companions to you and all your generations, never leaving your side, as long as Mankind shall survive. In return, you will share your food and the warmth of your fire. You will treat my children with love and kindness, and tend to them if they become ill, just as if they were born from your own belly. And if they are in pain, you will take a sharp knife to their throat, and end their misery. In exchange for this, you will have the loyalty of my children and all their offspring until the end of time.'_

_ First Man and First Woman agreed. First Dog went to her nest in the brush, and with the last of her strength, one by one, she brought her pups to the fire. As she did so, First Woman gave birth to First Child, wrapped her in Rabbit skins, and nestled First Child among the pups by the fireside. First Dog lay down by the fire, licked her pups, then walked away to die under the stars._

_ Before she disappeared into the darkness, she turned and spoke once more to First Man. 'My children will honor this pact for all generations. But if Man breaks this pact, if you or your children's children deny even one dog food, warmth, a kind word or a merciful end, your generations will be plagued with war, hunger and disease, and so this shall remain until the pact is honored again by all Mankind.' With this, First Dog entered the night, and returned in spirit to the creator._

She looked up from the book at him. He had settled back more into the chair and appeared to be less tense. "What did you think?" she asked, not sure if she was pushing him too far.

"I liked it," he stated and she thought she was going to fall over in shock at the gruff voice speaking to her. Yet, she recovered quickly, her hands moving over the page. Then he spoke again, an unexpected occurrence.

"Are there any stories about the Wendigo?"

"Um, let me see." She flipped back to the chapter index at the front. "Here. 'The Wendigo' on page 77." She went to that page then turned the book so he could the picture.

He leaned forward, very interested. The picture was a stylized artist's rendering, of course. It resembled a man but the differences were creepy. It had no pupils, the eyes completely white. There were areas through the shreds of clothing that showed bones. Yet, the most disturbing aspect of the drawing was the mouth. It looked like the lips had been drawn back impossibly far, the teeth unnaturally prominent.

Daryl's eyes came up and met hers for a moment. She wasn't sure but it seemed like there was fear in them. Then they fell away and he sat back in the chair. Nodding, he indicated that she should continue.

Turning the book towards her again, she read. "This particular tale of the Wendigo comes from the Chippewa tribe in the Minnesota territory. There are variations on this mythical creature spreading up through Canada.

_Running Wolf was born into the tribe of the northern snow lands. He was young but considered a skilled hunter by his people. One day he and his friend Cold Wind went out on a hunt, searching for the massive elk. They encountered what appeared to be a man._

_ They called out to him but he did not answer. Instead he moved closer and closer to them and they saw he did not move like a normal man. When he was upon them, they realized he was no man at all but a demon!_

_ Before they could escape, the demon attacked Cold Wind. It bit deep into his arm. Running Wolf pushed the demon off his friend and they ran for their village. The demon was lost behind them in the snow._

_ They went right to the medicine woman, who treated Cold Wind's wound as best she could. Unfortunately, he became very ill. Soon he died and his friends and family gathered around his bedside to wish him well into the spirit world._

_ Then he awoke again. The demon had possessed him! He attacked the man closest to him, his father, biting into his neck. As the father's life blood flowed out of him, Running Wolf stabbed the possessed body of his friend in the chest with his knife. It should have been a killing blow but it didn't stop him. Other braves stabbed him but there was no effect as he reached for his mother. Finally, Running Wolf plunged his knife into Cold Wind's forehead. This destroyed the demon._

Carol closed the book and they both sat there, somewhat disturbed. Daryl cleared his throat and stood up. Carol stood up quickly with him.

"Thanks," he said gruffly.

"You're welcome," she said, figuring he'd gotten what he needed with that myth. She walked behind him to the door but he hesitated, nervously running his fingers through his hair.

"C-can I come back again? For...for this?" he mumbled.

She gently touched his hand, which he did not jerk away from. His eyes did widen slightly though.

"I'd like that," she told him honestly.


	7. Chapter 7

Warning: was having email issues so if you haven't read chapter 6, read that first!

I should probably advise you all that I have very little experience with actual farm work. I've worked with farm animals but that is about the extent of my knowledge. Also don't know much about the flora or fauna of the Midwest, coming from Pennsylvania myself. If I get anything wrong, feel free to let me know.

I do not own the Walking Dead or The Twilight Zone but I love those that do.

**Chapter 7**

The door to the Grimes' house swung open as Carl ran in. Sophia followed close behind him. Even the sheriff of Quarry didn't lock his door, confident in the safety of his town.

"Mom! I'm home!" Carl yelled out at the top of his lungs. Not unexpectedly, there was no answer back. Lori Grimes had gone with her husband to the Greene farm to help with everything that needed to be done following the attack the night before. Beth, a sensitive girl, was quite traumatized and was put to bed while the men cleared away the remains of the ravaged animals.

"Want to stay here?" Sophia asked. "I bet I could make us a snack without your mom," she offered.

"Nah, my house is boring. Let's go to yours," answered Carl. The two children skipped down the short road to the Peletier farm, not a care in the world. Even though they were aware of the tragedies that had occurred, it wasn't dampening their playful mood at the moment.

At the front steps of her house, Sophia paused. "I'm supposed to check in with my dad." Her voice was troubled. Usually she tried to steer clear of the angry man. Rarely did he ever pay any mind to his daughter, only when he was annoyed or angry with her. Sophia was not a stupid child; she knew what her father did to her mother behind their closed bedroom door. Lately, those incidents of her father's temper were getting more frequent and violent.

She tentatively opened the door and they both slipped inside. Loud snoring could be heard from the living room. They tip-toed to the doorway and saw Ed splayed out on the sofa. He had passed out, a large whiskey bottle still clutched in his meaty hand. There was only about a quarter of the liquid left.

"Should I wake him?" Sophia whispered, inching a little further into the room. Carl shook his head no, staying silent.

An extra loud snore came from the drunken man and he rolled on to his side. The kids jumped back and ran down the hall into the kitchen. Sophia grabbed them two apples and they left out the back door. The tension of being close to her father seemed to release as soon as they got back out into the sunshine.

"Better check in with Merle then. He won't watch us but at least he'll know we're here if mom comes home and checks with him," Sophia said, munching on her apple.

They found him baling up large blocks of hay. Even though the Peletier farm had very few animals themselves, mostly dealing with crops, they made a decent profit selling hay to the Greene farm for their large herd of beef cattle.

"Hi Merle!" she greeted him warmly. She knew that he liked to act all tough and gruff but underneath it, he had been kind to her. Once, when her mom had been inside cooking supper, her father had come home in a foul mood and shoved her right in the dirt. She had done nothing more than walk up to him. He'd stalked into the house and she had run to the hay barn to cry. Merle had seen the incident and had actually comforted her in his non-nonsense, curse-filled kind of way. She had felt better because of him and she never forgot that. Carol had never found out about it, only knowing that when Ed came home that night, she'd been beaten awfully for no good reason. Neither of them ever knew that he was just mad because some insects had gotten into a few stalks of his corn.

Carl eyed him a little more warily than Sophia but both of them hopped on to the hay bales stacked to the side. It was fun to try to balance up on them.

"Git yur asses off my bales before ya fuck 'em up!" Merle admonished them. The kids jumped down but the smile never left Sophia's face.

"Ya hear about what happened at the Greene farm?" Sophia asked him, hoping to pass on the gossip.

"Yep, nasty stuff. The doc and I may not be best buddies but I feel bad his little girl had to find that mess," Merle said.

Sophia's mouth turned down in a frown. "Yeah, those poor chickens! And their dairy cow! I know they have a ton of beef cows but she was their only dairy cow.'

"What do you think did it?" Carl asked Merle, speaking up for the first time.

Merle looked thoughtful. "Woulda said a fox or a coyote if it were just the chickens. But not sure what could take down a cow in a barn like that. Musta been something fucking huge."

"Mountain lion?" Carl pressed.

"Maybe."

"Anyway, Carl and I are just going to go play. Mom told us to check in with an adult because of everything happening. Okay?" Sophia asked.

"Not sure if I qualify as an adult," Merle said with a smirk on his face. Sophia rolled her eyes and grabbed Carl's shirt, pulling him with her as they went off. From behind her, she could hear Merle shout, his voice taking on a serious note. "Stay where I can hear ya! You see anything, just shout!"

"Okay!" she shouted back.

Carl slowed down as he saw that she was pulling him towards the woods. Usually it was their favorite play area, but Carol's warning came back to him. "Maybe we should play in the dairy barn instead," he offered.

"Nah, Bessie gets annoyed when we run too much around her. Come on, we'll stay within sight of the farm." Carl seemed to accept this answer and they stepped through the tree line. "What do you want to play?" Sophia questioned him.

"Let's play cops and Indians!" Carl said excitedly.

Sophia snorted. "It's cowboys and Indians or cops and robbers, silly."

"I know but my dad's a sheriff and there haven't been any robbers in Quarry in forever. But there are Indians around here," Carl explained.

"But Quarry isn't fighting with the Indians," Sophia resisted.

"We can pretend. I'm the sheriff and you're the Indian trying to scalp me."

"No, I'm Pocahontas and I'm going to steal you to be my husband in my tribe," she giggled then peeked a kiss on his cheek. Carl looked flabbergasted as Sophia took off into the woods. He chased after her, part of him indignant at her girlish action but another part of him excited by it. He didn't really understand that second part and pushed it out of his mind.

He had almost caught up with her when she suddenly stopped short. Carl ran into her back, almost tumbling them both to the forest floor. Luckily, they both caught themselves in time to stay upright. Carl looked over at Sophia, confusion and annoyance on his face. However, Sophia's eyes were glued to something in front of her. Her face was a mask of shock and fear.

Carl looked in front of them and he stepped back in fright. There was blood everywhere and the stench of rot came wafting at them with a little gust of wind. It looked like a woman had been attacked by a bear but it was not that simple. The huge carcass of the black bear lay curled on the ground, parts of it ripped apart. A body lay draped over the bear, facing away from them. The woman, easily identified as such because she still wore a once-pretty bonnet on her head and a frilly white dress, was covered with blood. It was difficult to tell which blood was hers and which was the bears. Her left leg had been ripped off at the knee and flung against a nearby tree. Her left hand had also been amputated, resting just next to the mouth of the dead beast.

Both children let out little whimpers of terror when the woman's head unexpectedly came up and swung around to face them. Her face was covered with fresh bear blood and she continued to chew entrails as she observed them. The clouded eyes moved between the children and it was like a great realization seized the diseased brain: fresh meat.

Opening her mouth wide, the entrails fell out, forgotten. A gasping, gurgling noise emerged and then the large teeth snapped shut with a click. They opened and closed like that repeatedly as the one-handed, one-legged dead woman began to slowly move towards the children.

With a scream, Sophia grabbed Carl's hand and they raced back to the farm. Merle had already abandoned the hay bales, making his way towards the woods when he'd heard Sophia's scream.

"Merle, Merle!" she cried. "There's a dead woman in the forest!"

"No, she's not dead! She was eating a bear!" Carl interjected, panicked.

Merle gave the boy a look like he was stupid but seeing both children so frantic sent a prickle of fear through his body. "Show me," he ordered.

The kids directed him to the spot where they'd come upon the awful scene. Before they quite reached it, they could hear the sounds moaning and dragging headed towards them slowly. Merle held out his arm to stop the other two, his finger on his lips to indicate quiet. Making sure they weren't following him, Merle crept forward, his knife held securely in his hand.

He noticed the bonnet first, once beautiful and probably very expensive, but now covered with gore. The thing was dragging herself along with one hand and pushing off the ground with one foot. She snapped her jaws at him, pushing towards him a little faster. She smelled like death.

Merle was momentarily taken back with fear. His brother had mentioned the flesh-eating Wendigo myth recently. He'd blown it off as Indian nonsense but now it hit him in stark reality. Was that what this thing was? It looked like it had been a white woman at one time but now it was obviously a monster. All he wanted to do was kill it and get the children away from it.

Without anymore thoughts, he inched closer. Careful to avoid the hand weakly reaching for him, he thrust his knife through the bonnet. Black blood spurted out but the thing collapsed to the ground. True death had taken it. He hadn't known this was the only killing blow, only that he didn't want to have to get any closer to the creature.


	8. Chapter 8

I do not own The Walking Dead or the Twilight Zone but I love those who do.

**Chapter 8**

The sun was lazily drifting down to the western horizon as the day headed towards night. A few clouds were drifting across the sky, possibly threatening rain. On the road from Santa Fe, three men on horseback stopped at a crudely written sign.

**Quarry**

**2 miles**

The man in the lead glanced back at his overweight companion. "Yo Tony. You ever heard of Quarry?"

The fat, bearded man scratched his head. "Nope. But I need to get me a new horse. This fucking one is begging for a bullet in the brain." He flicked the horse's ear cruelly.

"Told you not to take that rancher's favorite stallion. They tend to have loyalty issues to their new owners," remarked the lead man. He pushed his Stetson hat up, regarding the sign again. "I think Quarry sounds like a worthwhile place deserving of our attention."

"Can we please stay in the town, Dave? It would be so nice to sleep in a real bed instead of on the goddamn ground," whined Tony.

"Shut yer trap. Too dangerous and it's gonna be dark soon. We'll set up camp out here off the road for tonight. Then tomorrow we'll scope this place out. 'Sides, what the hell would we do with our prize there?" Dave tilted his head towards the third horse.

A young man with frightened eyes looked back at him. He had a gag over his mouth and wrists were securely tied. A rope connected him from his bindings to Dave, the man in the lead. There was dried blood down the side of his face from a wound that had stopped bleeding long ago. His right eye was swollen shut.

"You ever hear of this town Quarry, boy?" Dave questioned the young man. He jerked on the rope roughly to emphasize his question.

The young man shook his head no.

"You better not give us any trouble or else you and the fine people of Quarry are going to pay for it. Got it?" Dave stated threateningly.

The traumatized man nodded, not wanting to bear another thrashing. Dave smiled evilly at him and they turned the horses off the road to find a place to set up camp.

The people of Quarry did not know that another danger had come to town.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

The Peletier farm seemed strangely quiet to Merle as he herded the children into the house. He kept trying to push the image of the rotting woman out of his mind. If that wasn't one of those Indian demons, the Wendigo, that Daryl had mentioned, nothing else could be.

"Get upstairs and stay there," he commanded them. They nodded solemnly at him and went up the stairs.

Merle strode into the living room, looking down at his drunken boss with disgust. Sure he had many a day where he indulged to the point of passing out. But he didn't beat on women and children like this asshole. Merle got a little satisfaction in forcefully poking Ed in the chest.

"Wake up, Sleepin' Beauty."

Ed snorted loudly as his body jerked awake from the minor assault. Then seeing through half-open eyes that it was Merle, he settled his body back down again.

"Get out of my fucking house or I'll fire you," Ed mumbled at him.

Merle smiled at him wickedly. He liked pushing his limits. "You ain't gonna fire me. I'm your only farm hand left. You need to get yur ass up. We got a problem."

Ed came awake fully at this statement. "What problem?"

"I'll show ya," Merle began to walk towards the back door.

Ed sat up to follow him then groaned loudly, clutching his head. Merle chuckled under his breath, loving to see his boss suffering from his hangover. Ed staggered up, caught himself on the door jam and breathed deeply. His breath was horrible, a mix of dirty mouth and stale alcohol. Then Ed steadied himself and walked behind Merle out the door.

When they came upon the dead woman, Ed just stared at her. Merle could practically see the wheels starting to turn in his dull brain, trying to figure out what the hell he was looking at. Then the temper came, as it always did when he didn't understand something.

"What the fuck did you do, you sick bastard? Kill some woman on my land? Mutilated her too," Ed raged but didn't come after him as Merle circled around the body.

"Shut the fuck up! I didn't kill her!" Merle stopped, thinking. "Well, I kinda did. The kids found her eating a bear and she went after them. Dragged herself right for them, clamping those scary teeth of hers. Had to stop her. Come see this shit," Merle motioned for Ed to keep following.

When they reached the bear after several yards, the overwhelming smell attacked Ed's senses. It was even more powerful than the rotting stench coming off the dead woman. It was too much and he heaved into the bushes.

Once he had emptied the contents of his stomach, he was better able to examine the body of the bear. The abdomen has been ripped open, the organs partially eaten. Merle nudged the dismembered leg of the woman with his foot. Then he backed away from the bloody scene.

"We gotta get the sheriff," Merle advised Ed. Ed nodded silently and they went back to the house.

Due to Ed's poor condition, Merle went for the sheriff. Ed just laid down on the sofa again. Jerk didn't even ask about his kid, who had seen the horrific sight initially. Merle knew that the girl was smart enough to keep Carl safely up in her room.

As he came down the road, he stopped to observe a very interesting sight.

Daryl was walking next to Carol. When they'd been leaving the schoolhouse, they realized that they were both headed to the same place. At first they had been fairly far apart but as they walked, they'd drifted closer until they were walking side by side. They hadn't talked at all but the silence was not comfortable. Each of them had been keenly aware of the other's presence, their hearts pounding harder than normal. With their thoughts so absorbed in the one they walked beside, neither of them saw Merle headed their way.

Merle had never seen Daryl this close to a woman willingly. He was so skittish, his baby brother. He would need to investigate this occurrence more in the future but there were more important things at hand currently.

"Yo, brother!" Merle called out and took some wicked satisfaction at the way his brother jumped away from Carol. A blush crept its way up Daryl's face and even Carol seemed to have a guilty look on her face. Merle wondered just what was going on between the two of them.

"Hi Merle," Carol said sweetly, recovering first. "We just ran into each other on the road to the farm," she lied.

Merle directed his attention to Carol. "Something's happened at the farm. I'm getting' the sheriff."

"Oh no! What's happened? Sophia?" she asked, distressed.

"Sophia's fine. I put her upstairs in her room with Carl. Why don't you head to the house while ma brother and I get the law?" Merle told her and Carol took off without another word.

"What the hell happened?" Daryl eyed him with suspicion. Merle had a history of getting himself into trouble.

Merle ignored the look, spilling out everything that had happened. He finished saying, "It was one of those demon Wendigo things you told me about! Fuckin' thing was comin' for the kids. I took her out with a knife to the head."

Daryl's face had changed to one of concern and even fear. "How'd you know stabbin' it in the head would kill it?" he asked, thinking back to the story Carol had just read him.

"Doesn't a stabbin' in the head kill just about anythin'? 'Sides, I didn't want to get any closer to the ugly thing. Come on, were losin' the light, little brother," Merle said as they headed for the sheriff's station.


	9. Chapter 9

Hey Everyone! So I got some questions about making Randall the hostage in this story and not one of the bad guys. Let me just briefly explain my perception of Randall as he was in the show. He went to school with Maggie so he is probably in his very early twenties. When the world went to crap, he was probably alone, scared and running for his life. That group of men he was with probably saved him from Walkers and therefore, he owed them. He seemed honestly to be disgusted by what his group did to women survivors and I believe him that he did not participate. However, it wasn't like he could leave them. Where was he going to go? I believe he would have made a good group member given the chance, although I understand Rick and Shane's worries about him. So keep these thoughts in mind pertaining to his character in this story.

I do not own The Walking Dead or The Twilight Zone but I love those who do.

**Chapter 9**

Sheriff Rick Grimes felt like his head was going to explode. Never had anything like this happened in Quarry. He usually had to deal with claims of theft, scuffles between neighbors or public drunkenness. Now he had two dead bodies and several mutilated animals. To make matters worse, the story he'd so far gotten about this incident with the woman and the bear wasn't making any sense.

He had already helped load the dead, disfigured body of the woman found in the Peletier's forest onto a cart. That included her amputated leg and hand. The cart was headed to Doc Greene's farm, since he also performed the duties of the undertaker. Quarry wasn't big enough to warrant its own undertaker. People died so rarely here. The cart was being driven by Jimmy, one of the farm hands.

Now Rick stood with Herschel Greene, both men staring down at the large body of the black bear. The stench was sickening but the picture was puzzling. The sun was setting and he just wanted to get away from it.

"What should we do with the bear's body?" Rick asked the wisely older man.

"Just leave it here. The scavengers will take care of it," Herschel directed him. The thought of trying to bury it was not an appealing one.

Shane walked up behind them, groaning as the smell assaulted his nose. "Got the statements from Merle Dixon and the kids. You want to go over them and then you can ask them any additional questions?"

Rick turned to him and they all started walking back to the house. "Yeah. So what'd they say? Did the bear kill the woman or did the woman kill the bear? Because it sure looked like they killed each other."

"Well, unfortunately we still don't have an answer to that question. Your son and the Peletier girl thought both of them were dead when they came upon the scene. Then your son said, and I'm quoting, 'The woman sat up and we could see she was eating the bear. But she wasn't really a woman anymore. She looked like she was dead but still moving. When she saw us, she came for us. I think she wanted to eat us too,'" Shane read out of his pad. "He is just a kid. He could be making that up," Shane offered.

Rick pushed his hat up, trying to work out his son's words in his head. "Nah, I don't think he would make something up about this. I believe that's what he saw, even if it doesn't make any sense."

"The Dixon brothers also offered up a theory. It sounds like a bunch of Indian bullshit but it might fit the scenario here," Shane read slowly off his pad. "A Wen-di-go. Some kind of demon that possesses dead people and makes them eat human flesh. Although this was a bear and not a human. And we're talking about the redneck Dixon brothers."

Rick threw his deputy a stern look. "Hey, none of that. Those two are members of this community and will be treated as such."

Shane narrowed his eyes at Rick before looking away, obviously displeased by the warning. Rick got the impression that Shane did not like when Rick exercised his authority over him. Rick had been getting that impression more and more lately and it made him not sure about placing his life into his deputy's hands.

Brushing it off, Rick said, "I'm going to go with Herschel back to examine the dead woman. Possibly try to get some more information on what happened here. Maybe even figure out who she is. We know she isn't from Quarry and the next closest town is over 12 miles away. I want you to take Lori and Carl home and then go door to door and alert people. We don't want to cause a panic but just make sure people are aware of their surroundings. Encourage everyone to carry a weapon and if possible, not to be out alone."

Shane did not meet his eyes but nodded affirmatively as he went back in the house. Rick watched him, the hairs standing up on the back of his neck. Then he and Herschel climbed on their horses and headed for the Greene farm on the other side of town.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Lori was quiet as she walked home with Shane and Carl. The two of them were engaged in an in-depth conversation about fishing methods. Carl would often go fishing in the stream that ran outside of town. He used to go with Rick but lately Rick had been so caught up with work that it seemed like he didn't have a lot of time for Carl. Lori didn't like it and they had already gotten into a few fights about his long work hours.

She was also quiet because her thoughts kept wandering back to the kiss she'd shared with Shane a few days earlier. Her feelings were so conflicted. She knew she loved her husband but Rick had been so distant lately. They were hardly ever intimate and half the time they were together, they were fighting about stupid things.

It didn't help that Shane had turned his attentions to her. He was very handsome and so sure of himself, almost to the point of being cocky. She found herself drawn to him. Yet, she wasn't prepared to do make any decisions that might have severe consequences on her marriage.

He gave her another alluring smile as they neared the house. Carl didn't notice as he ran for the door.

"I'm gonna go write this all down in my notebook. I don't want to forget anything! It will be like my report for dad and maybe it will help him solve the crime," Carl told her excitedly. "Right, Shane?"

"That's right, partner. You make sure you get every little detail in there for us." Shane told him and Carl took off to his room upstairs as the two adults came into the living room.

"Thanks so much for walking us home," Lori said, figuring this was a good indication that he should leave. To emphasize that point, she walked away from him, into the kitchen down the hall.

Yet, Shane didn't leave. He followed her, watching as she removed some vegetables from a basket and a knife from the drawer to chop them up for dinner. She eyed him warily and then said, "You don't have to stay until Rick gets back. I was going to lock the doors."

Without a word, he moved behind her. His body was pressed against hers, his one hand sliding on her hip. She tensed as his other hand gently moved her long hair off her neck. Her breath caught in her throat as his lips softly pressed a kiss to her soft skin.

Lori didn't know what to do. Her heart was beating so hard she thought it might jump out of her chest. It felt so good, his kisses on her neck. Yet, she knew that this was wrong. That she loved her husband and this would hurt him.

"Stop," she cried, spinning her body away from him. She unconsciously held the knife still in her hand at him, trying to ward him off.

Shane smiled and looked down at the knife. "You gonna use that on me?" he asked cheekily.

Lori realized how she was holding the knife and brought it down, a little tension leaving her. "We can't do this, Shane. Rick is my husband and he's your boss. Maybe if he wasn't it would be different but that doesn't matter now."

"So you're saying that if Rick wasn't here, we could be together?" Shane pressed her.

Lori sighed, wanting to put him down easy. "Yes. But it can never happen. Rick is an important part of both our lives and that will not change. Do you understand?"

"I understand perfectly," Shane said and then walked out of the house without another word. He was smiling as he went to alert the other residents of Quarry about the new incident. Pictures of him and Lori entwined filled his thoughts.


	10. Chapter 10

Sorry it took a little longer for me to write this chapter! I got a unique opportunity to watch laparoscopic surgery done on 2 dogs. It opens a whole new world into less invasive surgery in the veterinary world. The funniest thing was one of the dogs, a 150lb St. Bernard, was named Chewbacca! How appropriate, right?

Hope you all like this next chapter. Please note that the Indian myth is a tale reported by James Mooney in the 1890's and can be found at www dot angelfire dot com /ca/Indian/ GrandmotherSpider dot html.

I do not own The Walking Dead or The Twilight Zone but I love those who do.

**Chapter 10**

The morning dawned bright in Quarry. The clouds threatening rain had moved off across the prairie, leaving the day cool but fresh. Merle rolled over, knowing he should already be at the farm but he didn't care. It wasn't like Ed got up early to check on him anyway.

He stretched lazily and climbed out of bed. Pulling on his clothes, he made his way into the main room of the tiny house. Unexpectedly, he stopped short seeing his brother sitting at the table drinking a mug of coffee.

Daryl was usually up at the crack of dawn to go hunting. He did this every morning religiously and it kept them well-stocked with meat. Often, Daryl would trade his kills for other goods and food. Merle believed that Daryl really enjoyed his early morning hunts and it was a rare day that Daryl did not go out.

"You want some of these eggs I made?" Daryl asked casually, pushing a plate of scrambled eggs across the table.

Merle nodded, taking the other seat across from him at the table. He dug into the eggs.

"You got a job or something this mornin'? Why ain't you out huntin'?" Merle questioned him around bites of egg.

"We got plenty of meat," Daryl retorted.

Merle ignored the fact that this would never have stopped Daryl before from going out to hunt. He finished his eggs and pulled on his boots.

Daryl got up as well, following Merle to the door. Merle looked back at him, a strange look on his face.

"Where you goin'?"

"I'm goin' down to the farm with ya. I want to make sure there aren't any more of those things lurkin' around," Daryl stated.

A smirk came to Merle's face. "Awww, is my baby brother gonna walk me ta work ta make sure the big, bad Wendigo doesn't eat me?" he cooed annoyingly at his brother. He ruffled Daryl's hair harshly.

"Fuck you, Merle," Daryl threw at him. "You wasn't so happy about that Wendigo you killed yesterday."

Merle conceded this point to Daryl. That moving dead woman had scared the hell out of him. Together, they walked down to the Peletier farm, which was not far from their house. Daryl was mostly quiet, like he always was, while Merle rambled on complaining about the lack of hot women in Quarry.

"What about one of those two down at the saloon? They're pretty," Daryl questioned him. They began walking down the road to the farm, the main house just ahead of them.

"Nah, neither of them seems to be too interested in the good stuff I got to offer. I might have to go to Santa Fe just to get laid," Merle mentioned wistfully. Then he eyed his brother. "What'd bout you? You bang either of them?" Merle knew Daryl hadn't but he got a sick thrill watching his brother's face turn red.

Before either of them could say another word, the door to the house flew open and Ed marched out. It didn't appear that he saw them, or else he just ignored them as he slammed the door closed and headed out to the fields. Merle was glad not be acknowledged because he never was sure when his boss's temper would be turned on him.

"Wonder what bug crawled up that jerk's ass?" Merle commented.

Daryl didn't respond and Merle noticed that his brother looked distracted, his eyes on the house. Following his brother's line of sight, Merle saw what had captivated Daryl's attention. The memory of yesterday came back suddenly to him.

"Holy shit!" Merle punched Daryl's arm hard.

"What the fuck Merle!" Daryl gave him an angry look as he rubbed his arm.

Merle ignored him, watching Carol moving around behind the window that Daryl has been focused on. "You didn't come here for me. You came here for her! Are you fucking her?"

"What? No!" Daryl gave him an incredulous look.

"Then what the hell was that yesterday with the two of you walking so close together down the road? And skipping hunting to come down here this morning?" Merle pressed him.

"It ain't like that. She's a nice lady with a nice kid and an asshole husband," Daryl explained.

"Yeah, that's all true. But she still ain't none of your business."

Daryl didn't respond. He couldn't explain these feelings he was having to himself and he certainly wasn't going to talk about them to Merle. He didn't understand why he couldn't stop thinking about Carol. He didn't know why when he saw her, his heart soared but his stomach clenched with nerves also.

Merle began to laugh obnoxiously, which Daryl knew was at his expense. "God damn, little brother! Here you are tellin' me I got to do good and keep this job. All the while you've been sweet on the boss's wife. Don't get into a tangle with him; that motherfucker is one mean son of a bitch," Merle warned him as he walked off to the milking barn.

Daryl gave him the middle finger as he left.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Carol was very surprised when Daryl asked if he could walk with her and Sophia into town. She hadn't even known he was there. He just kind of appeared as she came out of the house. Like usual, he hardly talked at all, only answering a few questions Sophia asked him about trading with the Indians.

Carol no longer got the impression that Daryl didn't like her. In fact, she felt like he was escorting them this morning as protection against the danger that had come to Quarry. She wondered if he felt sorry for her, that her husband didn't give a damn about their safety. She knew a lot of people in town felt sorry for her and it made her ashamed. Daryl didn't seem like the kind of person who would feel sorry for her so she wasn't sure what to make of his actions. However, she was glad for the security of having him along. There were other feelings that seemed to well up in her when he was around but she desperately tried pushing them deep down inside her.

When they got to the school house, Carol waved good-bye to him and he nodded his head in acknowledgement before heading further into town. Sophia saw Carl, who was walking up with Lori and ran over. Carol trailed her, smiling at Lori.

"Good morning. Seems like it's too beautiful out after all the scariness yesterday, right?" Carol made small talk.

Lori smiled sweetly at her. "Yes, it was very awful yesterday. I hope that is about as much excitement we have in Quarry for a while."

"Me too," Carol agreed before changing the topic. "I was wondering if I could ask a favor of you?" Lori tilted her head towards Carol, indicating that she should continue. "I have to do this interview with the reporter down at the saloon tonight. I was wondering if Sophia could stay with Carl at your place? We could pick her up on the way home. Or, if we are running late, she could stay overnight. Would that be okay?"

Sophia's head came up at this. "No! I'm old enough to stay home alone! You've let me do it a dozen times at least!" she whined, crossing her arms over her chest.

Carol's voice became firm as she addressed her daughter. "I know you have but you are not staying alone after what happened in the woods yesterday. Who knows what could have happened if that thing made it to the house?"

Lori kneeled down in front of Sophia, trying to defuse the situation. "You know, I'm planning on making an apple pie for dessert. You and Carl could help me with that after school," Lori offered, appealing to Sophia's love of baking.

"Yeah?" Sophia's frown was beginning to lighten a little.

"Yes. And you and Carl could have a sleepover. What do you think?" Lori asked.

Carl answered for her. "Yes, yes, yes! I got this new book for my birthday about star constellations and I can show them all to you!" Carl said excitedly.

That was enough for Sophia. "Yes!" she agreed. The two children ran into the school house as some of the other children came in.

"Thank you," Carol told Lori sincerely.

"It's not a problem. Rick is going to be doing one of those interviews also. I'll pick up the kids from school this afternoon," Lori said as she headed back to her house.

**XXXXXXXXX**

The school day went by fairly fast. The children had all wanted to talk about what had been going on in Quarry. Carol tried to explain it the best she could without causing too much fear. Yet, she wanted to convey to them how important it was right now to stay aware of their surroundings and never be out alone. They all nodded their little heads, understanding the severity of the situation.

As all the children filed out of the room, several parents were there to walk them home. Carol was glad that even the adults were taking the recent events seriously. Lori came for Sophia and Carl, who were practically jumping for joy at the prospect of baking a pie and getting to stay up late for stargazing.

Carol started straightening the desks, which always seemed to get shoved around when the children bolted for the outside. That was when he appeared in her doorway, silent as a ghost.

"Hi!" she said, feeling like it was just a little too bubbly of a greeting for him. Nevertheless, one side of his mouth quirked up in a half smile. "Here for another story?" she asked and he nodded.

They settled in the same spots as last time, her at the desk and him in the chair next to the desk. Flipping open the book, she stopped at a marked page. "This is a tale from the Cherokee tribe about how we got sunshine on our side of the world."

_In the beginning there was only blackness, and nobody could see anything. People kept bumping into each other and groping blindly. They said: "What this world needs is light."  
_

_Fox said he knew some people on the other side of the world who had plenty of light, but they were too greedy to share it with others. Possum said he would be glad to steal a little of it. "I have a bushy tail," he said. "I can hide the light inside all that fur." Then he set out for the other side of the world. There he found the sun hanging in a tree and lighting everything up. He sneaked over to the sun, picked out a tiny piece of light, and stuffed it into his tail. But the light was hot and burned all the fur off. The people discovered his theft and took back the light, and ever since, Possum's tail has been bald.  
_

_"Let me try," said Buzzard. "I know better than to hide a piece of stolen light in my tail. I'll put it on my head." He flew to the other side of the world and, diving straight into the sun, seized it with his claws. He put it on his head, but it burned his head feathers off. The people grabbed the sun away from him, and ever since that time Buzzard's head has remained bald.  
_

_Grandmother Spider said, "Let me try!" First she made a thick-walled pot out of clay. Next she spun a web reaching all the way to the other side of the world. She was so small that none of the people there noticed her coming. Quickly Grandmother Spider snatched up the sun, put it in the bowl of clay, and scrambled back home along one of the strands of her web. Now her side of the world had light, and everyone rejoiced.  
Spider Woman brought not only the sun to the Cherokee, but fire with it. And besides that, she taught the Cherokee people the art of pottery making._

She closed the book and laid it back on the table. "Did you like that one? I thought it was kind of cute," she said.

He nodded, his eyes holding hers for just a moment before darting off. "Got time for another one?" he asked quietly.

She gave him an apologetic smile. "Sorry. I have this interview I have to do tonight at Andrea's saloon. Some big city reporter from New York is apparently interested in education out here in the territories. Not sure what I'm going to say. I doubt anything I do here will be very exciting to him."

"He'll love talking to you. I mean, the kids here all love ya," Daryl offered as they moved towards the door.

"Thanks, I appreciate that. Hope I don't make too much of a fool of myself in front of him," she laughed a little.

"I doubt you could do that." His voice was just barely above a whisper. She waved good-bye to him as she headed into town.

Daryl made the decision that tonight would be a good night to take Merle for that beef stew dinner at Andrea's that he'd been promising himself.


	11. Chapter 11

Thank you all so much for your encouraging comments! I appreciate all of you and everyone that just reads this fan fiction as well. I love you guys!

I do not own The Walking Dead or The Twilight Zone but I love those who do.

**Chapter 11**

Carol strolled slightly behind her husband as they made their way to the saloon in town. He would occasionally say something, usually a negative comment about whatever they were passing, but it was more so to himself. She knew he did not expect her to answer him. She would rather not call his attention to herself. That often ended badly for her.

After she'd left the school house, she'd run home and got ready for an exciting evening. She had never been interviewed before by a reporter, especially one from New York City. As she'd had washed herself at the wide basin, she'd tried to think of clever things to say so that she would not sound too boring. Unfortunately, it had made her feel more nervous that she was going to fumble her words so she stopped thinking about that, just setting her mind to getting dressed.

She'd actually pulled out her prettiest dress for this occasion. It wasn't like she ever got to wear it elsewhere so why not? It was a lovely lavender color with a thin strip of lace around the collar. There was even a bow at the small of her back. At first she was worried that Ed would notice that she was dressing up and change his mind about letting her go. Yet, when she came downstairs to follow him there, he barely even glanced at her. She'd been so relieved.

Of course, then her mind started thinking about how she'd bought the dress several years ago and it was probably out of style in the big city. She wondered if the reporter would notice and think less of her for it. She pushed these thoughts from her brain as well, hoping that as a man he would not notice style changes as readily as a high-fashion woman.

The sun was just touching the horizon and there were lanterns burning around the entrance to the saloon. Carol could hear music coming from inside and the bustle of people. It made her smile thinking of her fellow townsfolk enjoying a good time with each other.

Ed pushing through the swinging doors like he owned the place. He was there practically every night but it was rare that Carol came with him. Her smile brightened as she took in the happy atmosphere. It seemed like with all the darkness that had come to Quarry, people were gathering together for comfort.

Doc Greene sat at the piano, drumming out a lively tune. Maggie was dancing on one side with Glenn while Beth was on the other side with Jimmy. Several other people sat at tables, humming and swaying with the song as Amy brought out mugs of beer and plates of beef stew. T-Dog was at the bar, serving a couple men perched on stools. Andrea was stirring a large pot of the beef stew behind the counter but looked up at the sound of the door swinging.

She smiled brightly at Carol as their eyes meet. She scooped out a large plate of beef stew and whispered something to T-Dog behind her. Then she brought the one plate over to them.

"Good evening, Ed," she nodded at him. "Carol," she nodded in her direction. "Ed, why don't I set you up right here?" She indicated the last stool at the end of the counter and laid the heaping plate down along with a fork. T-Dog brought over a tall mug of beer and put it down next to the plate. Ed sat down approvingly. He liked being waited on.

"You don't mind if I take Carol upstairs now, do you?" Andrea asked him sweetly. Ed just dug into his plate, waving his wife away like she was dismissed as he shoved delicious meat into his mouth.

Without another word, Andrea took Carol's wrist and led her up the stairs in the back of the saloon. When they got to the top, they both stopped and giggled a little, feeling giddy that they'd gotten away from the angry man below so easily.

"You ready?" Andrea questioned her.

Carol nodded, the nervousness coming back. She swallowed and smoothed out the non-existent wrinkles from her dress.

Andrea knocked on one of the doors in the hallway of the boarding rooms. A quiet response granted them entrance. Carol saw a man with round-framed glasses perched on his nose and dressed in a smart, three-piece suit stand up from the desk. He had a small smile of courtesy on his face as the two women came into the room.

"Milton Mamet, this is Carol Peletier. She's the local school teacher in Quarry that you wanted to interview. Carol, this is Milton, a reporter from New York City who has come out to do a piece on life in the territories," Andrea introduced them. They shook hands warmly.

"Thank you so much for participating in this project, Mrs. Peletier," he said as he pushed his glasses up.

"Please just call me Carol. I'm very excited to be a part of all this. Will this be printed in the newspaper?" she asked, very interested.

"Oh yes. I am mailing back articles to my editor as I am going along this trip. Of course, Quarry is very remote so I probably won't be able to mail back the articles I write about here until I get to Santa Fe. If you'd like, I can make sure that a copy of the newspaper gets sent to you in a few months," he offered.

"That would be wonderful!" Carol exclaimed. The prospect of her name and words being printed in the newspaper was like a dream come true. She would be so proud to show it to Sophia and her students. Of course, she would have to keep it hidden from Ed. He would not be so happy of her getting more attention than him.

"I'm actually hoping to have enough articles to compile into a book," Milton advised and she thought he looked pleased at the idea. She smiled encouragingly at him and his smile got just a little larger.

"Well, I have to make sure no chaos breaks out downstairs so I will leave you two be," Andrea said from the doorway.

Milton took a step towards her. "Thank you so much, Ms. Holden." His voice actually seemed a little nervous to Carol as he spoke to Andrea. He continued, "We should be just fine."

Andrea grinned at him and laid her hand against his arm. "Good. Call me if you all need anything." Carol could see a hint of pink brush across Milton's face as Andrea shut the door. She beamed inwardly, sensing something brewing between the two of them. In her opinion, Andrea certainly deserved it.

Getting back to business, Milton guided her to a seat just next to the little desk. It was covered with papers, pens, ink and already addressed envelopes. Preparing a pen with ink and a clean sheet of paper, he readied himself to start the interview.

"So Mrs. Pel-," he stopped himself before she could speak up. "Carol. How did you become the school teacher in Quarry?"

"Actually, I kind of inherited the post from my mother. My parents had owned our farm but my mother felt that it was important for the town's children to get an education. She set up the school house, which my father and several of the other men in town built. Sadly, my parents both passed away in that cholera epidemic that took a lot of our elderly and babies about six years ago. Of course, my husband now runs the farm and I decided to keep the school house open." Carol so wanted to say that her husband was running the farm right into the ground and that her teaching was the only thing keeping them somewhat afloat but she held her tongue.

"Yes, the cholera epidemic. Andrea had mentioned that her father also passed away from that, leaving her and her sister Amy to run the saloon." Switching away from that sad topic, he asked several questions about how she ran the school house, subjects she taught and what kind of school supplies she had available to her. He asked about her students; how many there were, their attitudes about learning and if there were a lot of children in Quarry that did not attend school. Then he asked if she was teaching them current events, like what was going on with the Great Civil War now raging between the north and the south.

Carol tried to answer all his questions and he seemed to be taking a lot of notes. She hoped this meant that she was thorough and engaging. When he moved the paper he was writing about the school to the side, she figured he was finishing up the meeting. However, he then grabbed another piece that was already half covered with writing.

"I was wondering if you would speak briefly about the incident that happened in the forest on your property yesterday. The whole town is talking about that along with the findings at the Jones and Greene farms. It is most unusual," he said.

Carol was speechless for a moment, unsure what to say. Then she decided it was better for people to know what was happening than to keep quiet about it. "Okay," she agreed and told him everything that Sophia had related to him. Then, almost as an afterthought, she mentioned the story she had read that same afternoon.

"I know this is going to sound so silly but I have this big book of Indian myths and legends. I had read a story about the Wendigo, a demon that possesses the dead and makes them rise again. These demon-possessed people crave human flesh. It just seemed like this was what Sophia and Carl were talking about when they described the 'dead' woman coming after them," Carol said and then felt stupid from bringing it up. "Sorry, you probably don't want to hear about ridiculous stories from the native peoples about monsters."

"No, that was fascinating. I am going to have to look further into this myth in relation to the incidents in Quarry." She saw him write the word 'Wendigo' and underline it twice.

They both stood up and Milton shook her hand again. "Thank you so much for your help," he said graciously. "I'm going to go work on my notes but I believe Andrea wanted to speak with you in her apartment before you leave."

Carol nodded, thanked him for the opportunity to be in the paper and wished him luck with his book. Leaving, she went to the door at the very end of the hall and knocked. Andrea swung the door open, grabbed Carol's arm and pulled her in excitedly. She'd been in Andrea and Amy's apartment over the saloon numerous times. It was just two bedrooms with a little sitting area between them. They needed to stay close in case any of their boarders had a problem in the middle of the night.

"Here, you must be starving!" Andrea drew her over to the table, which held a steaming plate of beef stew and a piece of bread beside it. Carol agreed and sat down. It smelled so delicious. "Tell me everything," Andrea directed as Carol ate.

Carol told her all about the interview, only mentioning his interest in the strange going-ons in Quarry at the end. She got the feeling Andrea was more interested than she should have been and called her out on it.

Andrea looked down, a little embarrassed. "I've never meet a man like him. He's so smart and educated along with being so polite. I guess I am so used to the rough men that come in here, trying to act all manly and make me feel like less of a woman because I own a saloon. I think I really like Milton," she confessed to her friend.

Carol took her hand. "I think he likes you too."

Andrea's head shot up, a look of shock on her face. "You think so? He's so nice to everyone he talks to that I couldn't tell if there was…something."

"Oh, there is. I saw it. When you touched his arm before leaving, I caught him blushing. I bet he finds you alluring. A single, strong woman out here in the territories, running a saloon full of tough men. He's probably never met anyone like you either."

Andrea couldn't seem to wipe the smile off her face but she changed the subject. "Guess who's downstairs right now."

Carol rolled her eyes. "My idiot husband?" I already knew that."

"Well, yes. But someone else too," Andrea prompted.

"Come on. Half the town is down there. Just tell me," Carol asked exasperated.

"Daryl Dixon."

Carol wasn't sure why hearing his name made her insides come alive with butterflies. It was like just seeing him was a thrill for her. She quickly squashed that thought, keeping her face neutral.

"Not sure why you think I need to know that," she told her friend warily.

"Come on, there's something going on with you two, isn't there? I know he's been coming to the school house in the afternoons," Andrea pressed her.

"Who told you that?!" Carol cried. She knew that Daryl would be upset if people found out he couldn't read. Keeping his confidence was important to her, for whatever reason.

"Calm down. Just saw him there that one day and then again today. You know I won't tell on you," Andrea reassured her.

Before Carol could say any more, the music below them suddenly stopped. Loud, angry voices could be heard shouting.

"Damn it, that's Ed yelling," Andrea said heatedly. Both women scrambled out of the apartment and down the stairs to try to diffuse whatever situation was about to blow up.


	12. Chapter 12

Thanks for all the great reviews with the last chapter! Glad you all liked it. I have a special thank you for Sandpiper for noticing that I made a mistake with content. Apparently, I had put that Andrea and Amy's father was murdered in chapter 4 and then last chapter stated he died of cholera. I decided to go with the cholera angle because I want murder to be a rare and scary thing in Quarry. I have edited chapter 4 to reflect this change.

Now on to the exciting continuation!

I do not own The Walking Dead or The Twilight Zone but I love those who do.

**Chapter 12**

Merle swaggered into the saloon with all the confidence in the world. He loved to make an entrance.

"Howdy, partners!" he called out to the room. He got some nods from a few of the other patrons but most people were absorbed in the food, drink or music. That didn't faze Merle one bit.

Daryl came in behind his brother, hoping not to attract as much attention. He surveyed the bar and was disappointed not to see Carol. There was her dumbass husband, playing cards at the table right in front of him. He recognized the three men playing with him. There was Axel and Oscar, two of the farm hands at the Greene farm, and Martinez from the Jones farm. It looked like the game was going well for Martinez. Doc Greene was playing a sweet, slow melody at the piano and his daughters were swaying across the dance floor, held close by their respective dance partners. Dale was in a far corner, reading a book and nursing a cup of tea.

Amy dropped off a fresh mug of beer to Ed and then came over to them.

"Hey boys! You eating tonight or just drinking?" she asked, motioning them to follow her to the bar. The Dixon brothers sat on two empty stools in the middle.

"We're eatin' some of your sister's delicious beef stew tonight, darlin'. Ma brother here is treatin' me," Merle said proudly. He clapped his hand on Daryl's back and Daryl just looked embarrassed. "But that don't mean we won't pass on the beer, of course."

"Sure thing," Amy said as she went around the counter to get them heaping plates of the beef stew.

T-Dog came over and nodded to Daryl, depositing a drink in front of each man. There was the tentative start of a friendship beginning between the two men. It didn't help that Merle had been part of the 'welcoming' committee along with Ed that had tried to persuade T-Dog from settling in Quarry. However, as the years had gone by and Merle had become less of a fan of Ed's, he and T-Dog had reached a silent agreement of civility.

As Amy laid the plates down, Merle asked, "Just where is that pretty sister of yours?"

Without missing a beat, laying down forks by their plates, Amy answered, "She's upstairs with Carol. They're doing an interview with that reporter from New York."

Daryl's head came up at the mention of Carol's name, which was something that his big brother noticed. In order to try to defer Merle's thought processes, Daryl direct the conversation away from Carol.

"What's a reporter doin' in Quarry? Up until this week, nothin' exciting happens here. No way in hell he made it out from New York when all this freaky shit started happenin'," Daryl commented.

"It's true, he was here before the weird stuff started. Andrea thinks he was tired of covering the war. It's so bloody over there right now. And he seems like such a proper gentlemen that I am sure it was wearing on him. Probably thought the Wild West would be good to write about." Her eyes fell on Daryl. "Hey, I wonder if he might be interested in talking with you? You have a direct connection with that Indian tribe nearby, right?"

Daryl looked down at his plate. He didn't advertise his trading with the Sioux tribe because some people had problems with having to share the land. With how much land there was, Daryl didn't see why they couldn't all get along. However, some people with attitudes of entitlement made things difficult. He just shrugged, which was a typical answer for him and Amy smiled, leaving them be at the calling of another customer.

Merle scooped up the last of his stew, making satisfied noises as he wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. From behind them, the doors swung open and two new people came into the saloon. Merle spun around to observe them while Daryl finished up his supper. The man was older but still looked strong and fit. He had a confident look on his lined face. There was a dirty white cowboy hat on his head. His boots came up high on his legs.

"Well, who do we have here?" Merle said in a very low voice to Daryl. He thought his brother meant the man but as Daryl twisted his head back, he realized Merle was focused on the woman behind the man. She was younger but not young like the Greene girls. Her hair was dark and wavy, falling below her shoulders. Her frame was small compared to the man she was with but she also looked wiry and strong. Her dress seemed to be more of a Mexican style than the average woman's dress in Quarry.

They watched as the two newcomers went to the last empty table across the room. Amy came over to speak with them but they couldn't hear the words from that far away, especially with the Doc starting up a faster song on the piano.

Daryl answered his brother's question. "That's the farrier, come to work on the horses for a few weeks. The woman with him is his daughter. I think her name's Karen or something. They're stayin' on the Greene farm because they have the most horses."

Merle gave him a look. "How do you know so much shit about what's goin' on in this town?"

Daryl shrugged again and then said, "I have them comin' over for Sky next week. Don't want her throwin' a shoe."

Merle's attention was off Daryl and back on the woman. "May not have to leave to get laid after all," he muttered with a smirk on his lips. Daryl just snorted as he took a good drink.

Suddenly, the loud screeching sound of a chair being dragged across the wood-planked floor drew their interest. The piano-playing halted.

"What did you just say to me?" bellowed Ed as he lifted his large frame out of the chair. His words were directed to Dale, who had finished his tea and had been heading home. Everyone in the bar got silent, watching the men face-off.

Dale appeared taken aback for a second as Ed towered over him. Then the older man drew himself up and looked Ed right in the eye. "I said you'd better watch how much money you're losing because you have other expenses to consider."

Ed's face started to turn red and he stepped right up to Dale. He poked a dirty finger into Dale's chest harshly. "Don't you tell me how I should handle my own money, you meddling old man!" the large man shouted dangerously.

Several men were on their feet now, including the Dixon brothers. T-Dog was walking around the counter quickly. However, before any of them made the decision to move, Carol came out of nowhere.

"Ed, please don't do this here," she hissed at him, grabbing his forearm.

He turned towards her, his rage now redirected. "How dare you talk to me like that, you bitch!" He wrenched his arm out of her little hands and backhanded her hard across the face. Everyone watched in shock as Carol's body hit the floor with a brutal sound. She hadn't been prepared for the blow.

Daryl tried to move to intercept, to get Ed away from her but there was an unexpected barrier in front of him. He realized it was his brother's large hand firmly planted on his chest, keeping him in place.

"This ain't none of our business," Merle whispered urgently to him. At the moment, Daryl didn't care.

Ed moved over Carol and she flinched violently as his fingers wrapped around her arm. He dragged her up to her feet and her other arm came up between them in a defensive position. Her eyes actually went over Ed's shoulder, seeing Daryl being restrained. His blue eyes locked on hers, understanding her fear.

Realizing Carol wasn't looking at him, Ed spun around. His fingers were in a vise-like grip on her arm and she was forced to move with him. His slow mind took in Daryl being held back by Merle and a mean smile spread across his face.

"You gonna do something about this? Huh, you stupid Indian lover?" Ed taunted him. To emphasize his point, he shook Carol ruthlessly by the arm. Her head snapped back on her neck.

That was all Daryl could take. He shoved his brother out of the way and went after Ed. Daryl's fist connected solidly with Ed's face. He ignored the pain in his hand, getting more satisfaction out of the feel of Ed's nose crunching. A spray of blood spurted out. Daryl landed another punch on the side of the raging man's head before he felt hands pulling his body away.

Ed's body had fallen against his chair. The man was much better at dishing out punches than taking them. Blood ran from his nose and into his mouth. At first he looked frightened but when he saw that Daryl was being restrained by Merle and T-Dog, he smiled again. His teeth were stained red. He pulled himself back up to his feet.

Pointing at Daryl, he said, "If I ever see you on my farm again, your brother's fired. Only reason he ain't fired now is because he has some sense to mind his own business."

The sound of a shotgun being cocked stilled all of them. Andrea stepped around the bar counter holding a long gun in her hands. Her focus was directed at Ed.

"Get out," she stated simply.

Spitting red blood on the floor, Ed turned and walked out of the saloon.

Carol stood there, looking like she was in shock. Her fingers absently rubbed at the place on her arm where he had gripped her. Her eyes just stared at the doors he had just went through as they swung back and forth.

"Carol!" came the bellowing voice from outside. Her entire body jerked tensely. A little sobbing sound came from her throat but she did not move. Her head swung around to face Daryl, a look of longing covering her expression. He was still being restrained but his lips pressed tightly seeing her like this.

"You'd better get your ass out here right now or you will regret it later!"

Her head twisted around to look at her friend Andrea. Andrea shook her head at Carol, trying to silently advise her to stay. Carol gave her an apologetic look before her face crumbled into silent crying.

She put her head down and walked out of the saloon to whatever fate held for her.


	13. Chapter 13

Glad to see all the responses from the last chapter! That was an emotional one, right? Don't worry, there are plans ahead for Ed. Hope this chapter isn't a let down after all that.

If you haven't seen it, everyone must check out the new cover art for this story. It is awesome! Don't those faces look a little familiar? Done by HGRHfan35, who is very talented with the digital art. Go look!

I do not own The Walking Dead or The Twilight Zone but I love those who do.

**Chapter 13**

The saloon was silent as everyone watched the swinging doors slowly come to a standstill. Then Daryl roughly pushed away from Merle and T-Dog. The two men did not resist him now. All eyes followed as he stormed out the back door. Then people started moving again. There was a mass exodus from the saloon. Even though it wasn't very late, this had been enough excitement for most of them.

Daryl was pacing back and forth outside the building. He was filled with anger, his vision colored red. He wanted to destroy Ed, just rip the asshole apart. Unfortunately, that was not an option at the moment and he wondered if it ever would be.

With a growl of frustration, he punched the wall next to the door. The thick wood creaked but did not split. Pain radiated up his arm and he welcomed it as a distraction from his rage. Taking some of the fight out of him, he turned and slid down the wall he had just assaulted. He cradled his already bruising hand in his lap. His other hand covered his eyes, trying to block out the images in his head but not succeeding.

He kept seeing him backhanding her across her face. Hearing the sound of her small body crashing to the floor. The way she looked at him, like he could save her from all this misery. It just tore his heart apart. He didn't feel like he could save anyone.

After a little while, there was a soft knock on the back door. He had a feeling it was for him but he didn't answer. He didn't trust his voice. The door cracked open and stopped.

"Daryl?" It was Dale's voice.

Daryl grunted in acknowledgement. The door opened all the way and Dale came out of the building.

"Hey, I really wanted to apologize for what happened back there. I never should have provoked him like that. I just got so angry seeing him waste that money gambling. Carol works so hard for it and they can barely keep up with their bills as it is. I am ill thinking that Carol got hurt because of my actions. And I'm sorry you got involved in it also. Can you forgive me?" Dale asked sincerely.

Daryl tilted his head at the man and Dale knew that Daryl had accepted his apology. They had been working together on the Indian trading project since the beginning so Dale knew how tight-lipped Daryl could be.

"Thank you, my friend," Dale said and turned to leave. Then he stopped, turning back to Daryl. "When is your next meet-up with the tribesmen?"

"Day after tomorrow," Daryl answered. He felt his emotions starting to even out a little and he was glad that his voice didn't sound as harsh as he thought it would. Speaking with Dale usually had a calming effect on people. Well, most people.

Dale nodded. "Got some new stuff for them to try. We'll talk about it then. Again, sorry about tonight and let me know if there is anything I can do about this…situation." With that, Dale left Daryl alone.

After a few more minutes, Daryl decided that he needed a drink. The place had been practically cleared out with no bodies left at the bar. _Where the hell was Merle?_ He finally spotted him at a table across the room. Next to him was Karen.

Daryl didn't know whether to laugh or be pissed of at his brother. No matter what was happening, Merle was always thinking about Merle. Didn't matter that not even half an hour ago, there had been a major bar brawl involving his brother and his boss. Merle's mind was on getting laid.

Spotting him coming back inside, Merle raised his glass to Daryl and motioned him over. "Hey little brother! This here's Karen. She was just telling me all about the exciting world of being a farrier."

Daryl nodded his head at the woman.

She smiled nicely at him, although it almost seemed like she wasn't sure what to make of him after seeing him fight.

"Nice meeting you," she offered. "This town is pretty exciting compared to the last place we were. Place called Woodbury. May have been bigger but boring compared to everything happening here." She pointed at the chair next to her. "My dad decided to call it a night. Want to join us?"

Daryl glanced at Merle and the look in his brother's eyes said that he shouldn't dare to sit down in that seat.

"Nah. Gonna get a drink," Daryl told her and went back to the bar.

T-Dog, who had been cleaning glasses, looked up as Daryl sat down. Without even being asked, he filled up a mug with beer and put it down in front of him. He then got out a shot glass and filled that with whiskey. As he laid it next to the beer, he said, "On the house."

Daryl thanked him by downing the whiskey shot. The first beer also went down fairly fast. As he was just starting on the second beer, Merle clapped his large hand on Daryl's back.

"I'mma gonna walk this pretty lady home. Make sure none of those Wendigos gets her. You gonna be okay gettin' home?"

Daryl was actually kind of touched that Merle seemed to give a crap about him getting home. That was new for him.

Andrea just happened to be walking by and called out to Merle, "I'll stick him in one of the empty beds upstairs if he can't!"

"Thank you little lady for lookin' out for my baby brother here!" Merle called back and left. He put his arm around Karen as they passed through the swinging doors.

Amy came bounding down the stairs, a big apple in her hand.

"Where are you going?" Andrea questioned her.

"Just going out back to the stable. I'm taking Wildfire a snack. I haven't been out to the barn all day and he's a jumpy horse when I don't pay attention to him. I won't be long," Amy said to her sister, feeling like she was being treated like a little kid.

"Do you have your knife with you?" Andrea asked her.

Amy rolled her eyes but did pull out a small knife from her pocket. "I doubt those monsters that are killing the animals would come this far into town."

"Okay, just keep your eyes open, Amy," Andrea warned her.

"Whatever." Amy gave her sister annoyed look and walked out the back door.

The bar was now empty except for Andrea, T-Dog and Daryl. T-Dog was still cleaning glasses on the other side of the counter from Daryl. Andrea was washing the dishes a few feet down. It was pretty quiet until T-Dog spoke to Daryl.

"Hey man, I'm kind of jealous that you got to smash that asshole in the face. I've been itching to do that ever since my first day in town when he called me a goddamn nigger."

Daryl was definitely buzzed and comfortable around these two people. This combination was a good way to loosen his tongue. "Yeah, felt good. I don't think he liked it as much as when he's doin' the punchin'."

T-Dog agreed. "Poor Carol, having to deal with that jackass. I don't know why she left with him, why she didn't just stay here. He's probably beating the crap out of her right now."

Daryl felt his stomach clench at those words. It made him want to go up to the farm right then and kick his ass into oblivion. Before he could say anything, Andrea responded to T-Dog without looking up from washing dishes.

"She went because she has a child to think about and she's not ready to leave Quarry yet."

Daryl frowned. "What do you mean 'leave Quarry'?"

Andrea turned around to face them, still holding the dish she was washing. She was frowning now too. "I'm not sure I should be telling you this. Carol told me this in confidence."

Neither man said a word as Andrea tried to work out her indecision. She bit her bottom lip and looked at the ceiling, as if asking some higher power for guidance. Then she sighed loudly and the men knew she was going to cave to them.

"She wants to leave him. She said his temper has been getting worse and she's had to step in front of him to stop him from beating Sophia. I've seen her bruises and I think he's hitting her more than ever." She stopped and took a deep breath before continuing. "She's going to run. Run far away. Ed threatened that if she ever left him, he would kill her. I think he would do it too. So when she leaves him, she's leaving Quarry."

Daryl sat there stunned. Carol couldn't leave Quarry. She was like a fixture in this town. He didn't want her to leave. The thought of never seeing her again made him cringe. He still didn't even really understand these feelings but it made him want to take Ed out all the more.

Before anyone could say another word, a piercing scream ripped through the night. Then it was abruptly cut off. All three of their heads snapped to the back door. The scream had come from the stable.


	14. Chapter 14

Wow, I seem to be on a roll! Despite my boss being off this week, I have managed to get out a chapter a day. Hope that trend continues (even as I watch my pile of paperwork grow).

I do not own The Walking Dead or The Twilight Zone but I love those who do.

**Chapter 14**

Amy walked out the back of the saloon, grabbing up one of the lit lanterns to push away the darkness. She was annoyed at her sister, even though a part of her knew that she was being unfair. Andrea just wanted her to be safe but she always seemed to be such a nag about it. Amy loved her sister dearly but resented it when Andrea tried to act like her mother. Their parents were dead and Amy felt she was old enough to be treated like an adult.

She also knew that some of this annoyance at her sister's warning stemmed from her being upset at what had just happened in the saloon. They were both upset. It was rare that they had bar fights breakout at their place. Andrea was always quick to have T-Dog throw out anyone starting to have an issue before it got to the violent stage. Even that didn't happen frequently, which Amy credited to Andrea's shotgun. Everyone knew the woman wasn't afraid to use it. There was still a hole in the wall from when she discharged the weapon last to break up the last brawl a few years ago. That had been right after they had inherited the place and it had been relatively quiet since then.

Ed needed to be banned. Technically, this was Andrea's decision but Amy was going to push for it. The man was a powder keg just waiting to go off. T-Dog had to kick him out a few times, which she knew was hard for the black man. Ed always gave him a hard time, spitting racial slurs at him often. Tonight should be the last straw for Ed. It was true that he did spend a good amount of money in the bar but it wasn't like he kept up on his tab. He was in the red and it was usually Carol that would come pay it down on a frequent basis.

Amy's thoughts turned to Carol. Poor Carol, having to put up with such a horrible man. When Amy had been going to the little schoolhouse as a child, she had mostly been taught by Carol's mother. She had been a kindly old lady and all the children had been saddened by her loss. However, when Carol took over for the last couple years of Amy's education, she had brought a new energy to the classroom that made the students excited about learning. Since then, Carol had always held a special place in her students' hearts and nobody liked how her husband treated her.

Amy pushed those thoughts when she heard a noise coming from the stable. It sounded like one of the horses squealing. Jogging the last few steps to the door, she burst in and turned the lantern up for maximum light. There were still shadows in the corners but she could see around most of the stable.

Putting the lantern down in its usual spot for the best illumination, she peered around cautiously. Nothing looked out of place and all the horses were in their stalls. Andrea's horse Sally and Milton's horse Barlowe peered back at her from one side. Her horse, Wildfire, was in the last stall on the other side. He was a tall, chestnut-colored Quarter horse. Even though he was a gelding, he was still very spunky and got fidgety when he wasn't exercised. She knew she had been neglecting him the last week since all the strange happenings started.

He nickered at her and stamped his feet nervously. The other horses responded in kind, shaking their heads and making little noises of discontent. Something was wrong in this stable, even if she couldn't see it. She carefully removed her knife from her pocket, holding it out in front of her as if to ward off danger. Thoughts of the ripped apart animals at the Greene farm and the dead woman at the Peletier farm swirled through her head.

Suddenly, she was caught up from behind. A pair of burly arms wrapped around her like a steal trap. One of the arms compressed around her midsection with one hand came up to cover her mouth to prevent her from screaming. She still had the knife in her hand and tried slashing back at her attacker's thick body.

In an attempt to avoid the knife, he spun her around and a third hand came out of nowhere, gripping her wrist firmly. A handsome man with boyish features moved out of the shadows. He confiscated the knife.

"Don't want you hurting yourself, sweetheart," he said in a sweet voice that was laced with menace. His eyes scanned her frightened face then roamed down her body. She got a sickening feeling when he smiled at her. It was a mean smile.

Taking the knife, he ran it lightly down her neck as he stepped closer to her. She tried to move but the other man behind her held strong. "Don't be shy now, little filly," he cooed at her. "We can be real nice when we want to."

"Yeah, real nice," whispered the other man. Feeling his hot breath on the side of her face made her want to vomit. The man in front of her pressed into her and she was sandwiched between the two of them. Knowing what was going to happen, she decided that if she was going to get out of this, now was the best time to take that chance.

Bringing her foot up, she smashed it down with all her strength on the foot of the man holding her. He cried out and the arms around her released as he stumbled backwards. Amy let out a scream, hoping desperately that someone would hear her. She tried to twist away from the men towards the door in an effort to escape.

Abruptly, her scream cut off as she felt the knife pierce into her abdomen. There was no pain, at least not yet. Her whole body stopped moving and she just stood there, as if contemplating how the knife felt inside her.

"Shit! What do we do now Dave?" The fat man with the beard was suddenly visible in her sight. He sounded frantic.

Dave's hand was still on the knife jutting out of Amy and even he looked worried. Her eyes now contemplated him. If she was fully aware, she might have realized that she was going into shock.

"Someone must have heard her. We have to get the hell out of here, Tony!" Dave told him urgently.

Before either man could budge, the door to the stable slammed open and T-Dog rushed in. He had the shotgun up and ready for action. Andrea and Daryl were just behind him.

"Don't fucking move!" T-dog said as he put the shotgun right in Dave's face.

Andrea saw Amy, saw the knife in her belly and the blood staining her pretty dress. Crying her sister's name, she ran to her. That must have been more than Amy could contemplate because she rapidly collapsed in her sister's arms. The knife fell out of her, quietly hitting the dirt.

Tony cried out in fear and attempted to run for the other door across the stable. Not wanting T-Dog to take his sights off the one man, Daryl went after the fleeing, overweight one. He easily caught up to him and tackled him to the ground. Tony cried out again as his body hit the floor.

"Ya stay down there or T-dog's gonna put a bullet through yer back," Daryl threatened him. Tony was panting heavily but he put his arms up, indicating he wasn't going to move.

"Oh my god, she's bleeding! Amy! Amy, can you hear me?" Andrea was hysterical.

"I can hear you," Amy said quietly. "Stop shouting. It's really not that bad," she tried to assure her sister, even though she really wasn't sure if that was true. She was feeling numb but there still wasn't a lot of pain.

Andrea was crying but that elicited a little giggle. "Even now you're going to be contrary?" Then Andrea looked up at T-Dog, who was keeping the shotgun steady on the frozen Dave. "We need to get Doc Greene right now."

"I can run and get him if you keep the gun on them," T-Dog offered.

Daryl spoke up. "No. I can run faster than you. I'm going to go get the Sheriff and the Deputy so you three ain't alone with these bastards too long. Then I'll run and get the Doc."

They nodded at him and then Amy said, "Don't dawdle now." Nobody laughed but Daryl did give her a little quirk of a smile before he took off.

Daryl ran as fast as he could over to the sheriff's station. Luckily, it was just down the street. He flew through the door, startling the sleeping Deputy Shane awake. Daryl gave the man an incredulous look. Shane was sitting at the desk, his chair tilted back and his feet up. He almost lost his balance with the chair as Daryl barreled in but righted himself just in time.

"What the fuck, Dixon?" Shane put out, irritated.

"Amy's been stabbed in the stable behind the saloon. T-Dog's got two men cornered with the shotgun," Daryl explained.

"Holy shit!" Shane exclaimed. He sounded very excited, more so than concerned, and Daryl gave him a look. The deputy never seemed quite right to Daryl, like he didn't actually give a crap about this town. He certainly got the feeling that Shane did not like him or his brother.

"I'm gonna go get the sheriff and then Doc Greene," Daryl informed him.

"You do that," Shane said off-handedly as he strapped on his gun belt. He was acting like a kid going to the circus, not a peace officer faced with a potentially life-threatening situation.

Deciding he didn't want to stay with the off-balanced deputy, Daryl headed quickly over to the sheriff's house that he stayed with his family. It was only a block further down the street. He dashed up the stairs and pounded on the door loudly.

It didn't even take a minute for Sheriff Rick to appear in the door. He was in his night clothes but appeared fully awake. Lori was right behind him, looking scared.

"Daryl?"

Daryl said the exact same words he'd said to Shane. Rick looked shocked at first and then came concern that Daryl felt he should see from an officer of the law. "Shane already went down there. I need to go get Doc Greene."

Rick nodded. "I'll be right there."

He closed the door even as Daryl took off for the Greene farm. Lori stared at him and then screamed out, "What the hell is going on in this town? This place is supposed to be safe!" It almost sounded to him like she was accusing him of not doing his job.

He sighed loudly and then ran to change his clothes. His head hurt again.


	15. Chapter 15

So my roll of writing came to a screeching halt as work piled on. Almost got mauled by an evil dog and then a cat decided he wanted to be way more complicated than he should be. When is my boss coming back because I need more writing time!

So everyone liked my twist with Amy? Another walker attack might have been a little too predictable. There are some more twists coming up just to keep you all on your toes.

I do not own The Walking Dead or The Twilight Zone but I love those who do.

**Chapter 15**

Rick was out of the house in less than three minutes after Daryl alerted him of the situation in the stable behind the saloon. He let the door shut behind him, muting the sounds of Lori's arguing as he ran down the street. He understood that she was scared and didn't want him leaving but why couldn't she understand? He was the sheriff of this town and it was his job to keep them all safe. At the moment, he felt like a failure.

Pushing those self-deprecating thoughts aside, he focused on the job he had to do. Slipping through the swinging doors, he saw that the saloon was empty. He quickly made his way through the room to exit out the back door.

The loud sound of footsteps flying down the stairs behind him caused him to whirl around. A man he didn't recognize stopped short of crashing into him. Rick pulled his gun out.

"Hold it right there!" Rick ordered him.

A frightened look crossed his face and his hands came up defensively in front of the gun. He took a few steps backwards.

"Wait! I'm a reporter!"

Rick took a good look at him. His disheveled clothes were high quality and store-bought. He had a newer pair of glasses on his face. Even though his hair was mussed, it was clean. He remembered Andrea telling him about the border from New York City writing articles on the territories.

"Milton?" Rick questioned.

"Yeah."

Rick believed him and lowered his gun.

"What's going on? I thought I heard a scream and no one is here anymore," Milton asked anxiously.

"There's been an incident. I need you to stay here," Rick directed him and turned to head out the back door.

Milton scoffed. "Obviously you've never met a reporter before, Sheriff." he said as he moved to follow Rick.

Rick sighed, accepting the inevitable. "Just stay behind me." They stepped out the back door and headed to the nearby stable.

Before they even got into the building, Rick could hear Shane ranting at the perpetrators. It was very unprofessional and Rick felt a stab of annoyance. He wondered if Shane had even followed any of the standard protocols when dealing with possible criminals. Even though it was a very rare occurrence, they had both still been trained rigorously by the previous sheriff.

"-think you can come into our town, steal our horses and hurt our women? You mother fuckers got another thing coming!" Shane raged at them.

Rick entered the stable and surveyed the situation. Shane immediately shut his mouth, looking just a little embarrassed at his boss having caught his angry speech. Rick looked over at Andrea first, seeing her cradling Amy in her arms as she pressed a rag to the wound on her abdomen. He noted that she had tears on her face but she was no longer crying, her mouth set in a grim line as she tried to stop her sister's bleeding. Amy looked a little pale but otherwise okay.

"How's she doing?" Rick directed at Andrea but Amy was the one that answered him.

"I don't feel too bad, Sheriff. Andrea's got me covered so you deal with getting the scum out of our stable." She gestured towards the other side of the room. Rick could not help smiling a little. Amy had always been the kind of girl to speak her mind, just like her sister.

Milton came into the stable behind Rick and immediately focused on the two women on the floor. "Oh gosh, Amy!" He went over and knelt down next to Andrea, putting his hand on her shoulder. "What can I do to help?"

Andrea gave him a little smile and to Rick, it seemed like she was a little relieved to have him there. "Just stay with me. The doctor is on his way." Milton nodded, his hand staying on her shoulder.

Rick then turned his attention to Shane and T-Dog, who both had weapons trained on the two strangers. The moment he looked at them, he recognized them. They were the men from the wanted poster, Tony and Dave. Wanted dead or alive for murder, rape and possible kidnapping. Both of them were extremely dangerous.

Without alerting them to his knowledge, he spoke quietly but firmly to Shane. "Have you disarmed them yet? Restrained them?" He could already tell that Shane had not. The man was too busy exercising his muscles of authority to deal with proper procedure.

Shane grimaced, knowing he had screwed up. Recovering himself, he said, "I was just about to do that." He tucked his gun in the holster and brought out the handcuffs. He paused briefly, observing the two criminals.

Dave was staring down the length of the shotgun, his face slightly worried but not frightened. Rick had a feeling the man was working out his chances at getting the shotgun and not liking them. Tony had gotten up on his knees but his beady, little eyes were scared and pleading for mercy. He had his hand held up high. He was definitely not the mastermind of this operation.

Shane went to Tony, side-stepping Dave by a good margin. He pulled the gun out of Tony's belt and shoved it into his own waistband. Then he hauled the large man to his feet, eliciting a little whimper of fear from Tony. The handcuff snapped shut on his wrists. Shane looked up at Rick like his job was complete and he knew that Shane wanted him to handle Dave, the more dangerous one.

Rick walked over to T-Dog and said, "He makes one move, shoot him."

T-Dog's face was grim. Amy was like family to him. Directing his words to Dave, he goaded him, "Please, make a move. It would brighten my whole day." Dave seemed to think better of it as Rick disarmed and cuffed him.

"T-Dog, do you think you could assist us by lighting the way?" Rick asked.

T-Dog looked at Andrea and Amy. "I don't want them here alone, unarmed. Just in case there are any more of them."

"I can help you out, Sheriff," Milton said, grabbing the lantern and heading out in front of them.

Not so gently, Rick and Shane moved their respective prisoners out the door. Just before leaving, Rick said to those remaining, "Daryl should be back any time now with Doc Greene." Then he was gone.

The three of them were silent, just waiting. Andrea moved the cloth off Amy's wound and peered down at it.

"I think the bleeding might be stopping," she said hopefully.

"Oh, good. I love this dress and the blood is going to be such a bitch to wash out of it," Amy deadpanned.

"Amy! Stop that. This is serious!" Andrea chided her.

"I think I hear horses," T-Dog said and went to the door to peer out. He had the business end of the shotgun pointed at the ceiling. "Yes! Here they come."

Daryl and Herschel rode up to the stable. It was much faster for them to ride out, with Daryl borrowing a horse, than for the two men to walk back into town. They leapt off the horses and ran into the building, Herschel clutching his doctor's bag. He went right over to Amy, kneeling down beside her and took the bloody cloth that Andrea had been pressing over her wound. Andrea gave it up readily.

Daryl went over to T-Dog. "They take those assholes away?"

"Yep, probably got them all locked up in cages by now," T-Dog replied. "If they had taken any longer, I would have shot that one guy in the face. He's the one that stabbed Amy and he looks like one mean fucker."

Herschel stood up and addressed all of them. "We need to get her inside to her bed."

"I'm pretty sure I can walk," Amy stated, trying to push herself up.

"No, my dear, that is not advisable," Herschel said calmly but firmly. Amy understood from his tone that it was not a time to be reckless and she laid back down. "Would you two strong men be able to carry her up the stairs?" Herschel was looking at Daryl and T-Dog.

They nodded and moved towards the prone woman. Andrea seemed reluctant to move but Herschel gently guided her out of the way. T-Dog lifted her under the arms while Daryl lifted her legs.

"Ow!" Amy cried out, her hands flying to her wound. T-Dog struggled, almost dropping her but then he was able to catch himself. Amy's face went a shade paler. "There's the pain," she mumbled as the men carefully carried her out of the stable and up the saloon stairs to her bed.

Once they got her all settled in, the men stepped back to the sides of the bedroom and Herschel came over to Amy with a pair of scissors. "I need to fully examine the wound. Sorry, my dear," he said apologetically as he cut the cloth around her stab wound.

"My dress," Amy whined a little.

"I'll buy you a new one, just like this one," Andrea assured her. She could care less about her sister's dress, just wanting the Doc to tell her that everything was going to okay.

Once the wound was fully exposed, Herschel glanced at Andrea. "This might hurt."

Andrea went to Amy's side and held her hand. "Just take a deep breath and don't move." Amy nodded at her.

Herschel probed the wound and Amy screamed, practically leaping off the bed. With a quick look at each other, T-Dog went to Amy's shoulders and Daryl went to her feet, holding her down as Herschel worked. Amy gritted her teeth against the pain.

After a minute, Herschel stepped back. "I need to get some supplies from your bar. Can you come with me?" he asked, looking at Andrea.

It was obvious that she did not want to leave her sister's side but they all knew how important this could be.

"I'll stay with her," T-Dog said and took Amy's hand. Amy smiled weakly at him, sweating after the ordeal. Andrea nodded and followed Herschel out. Daryl joined them.

Herschel's face did not look happy as he faced Andrea. "Well, the good news is that it does not appear that any major arteries or veins were cut. She is not bleeding internally. However, I am concerned by the location of the wound that the knife may have cut into her intestines." Andrea's eyes got wide but before she could panic, he put his hand on her arm. "Hold on. We don't know if that has actually happened."

"But if it did, she's going to die. Isn't she?" Andrea's voice broke with distress.

Herschel looked sad. "Yes," he answered truthfully. "It would already be too late. She's not going to feel bad at first but she will become septic within a few days and that will take her. All we can do is keep her comfortable and wait. In the meantime, I am going to suture the wound closed. I need rum."

Daryl spoke up, looking confused. "Why rum?"

"Because I know that's Amy's favorite alcoholic beverage. We need it to take the edge off of the suturing," Herschel advised and Andrea ran down to the bar to get it.

Daryl's eyes went around the apartment, a place he had never been before. It was homey, more so than the run-down place he shared with his brother. There were actually pictures on the walls and cute little figures on the mantle. Suddenly feeling uncomfortable and unneeded, he said, "I'm goin' over to the sheriff's station. Make sure they ain't having any issues."

Herschel nodded and then took the bottle as Andrea came back in the room. She didn't even look at him as he left. He understood she was probably just trying not to freak out about her sister.

Outside, Daryl could see Rick, Shane and Milton all out front of the sheriff's station. Light was illuminating the window, silhouetting the men. Milton was back away from the cops, against the window so that he could write in the little pad of paper he was holding. Neither of the other men seemed to notice him. They were arguing in whispers. Daryl slowed down, not wanting to interrupt. He caught the middle of the conversation.

"I was getting to it!" Shane spoke intensely.

"Those two men should have been disarmed and handcuffed before I even walked through that door. These are dangerous men, wanted for murder and rape! The notice said they are suspected for kidnapping too. Do you see a hostage? Probably means they already killed that kid," Rick admonished him. He glimpsed Daryl coming out of the dark.

"What's the news on Amy?" Rick asked.

"Doc said that she ain't bleeding. But the knife mighta sliced somethin' in her gut. If it did, she's a goner. Won't know for a few days," Daryl relayed the information from Herschel to them.

Nobody said anything for a minute. Milton even dropped his pad down to his side, looking upset.

"We need to hang them," Shane stated.

For once in his life, Daryl agreed with him.


	16. Chapter 16

Okay, this is not going to be a favorite chapter. I swear it is necessary for good character development. Don't give up on me though. I promise there will be true satisfaction before the end!

Credit for the Navajo myth about the arrangement of the stars goes to CaineSpeedle. She was very awesome in offering it to me to use after she researched it.

I do not own The Walking Dead or The Twilight Zone but I love those who do.

**Chapter 16**

Carol awoke to the sound of heavy pounding on the door. The sun was barely coming through the window, indicating it was very early morning. She had slept in Sophia's room since the girl had stayed at the Grimes house overnight. After the incident at the saloon, Carol felt it was better not to bring her home. Ed hadn't even mentioned the absence of his daughter.

It had been much better that way since his temper was still flared once they got home. Yet, it hadn't actually been as bad as Carol thought it would be. After Daryl had humiliated him in front of everyone, she'd expected his rage to be unbearable. As soon as they walked in the house, he'd slammed her into the wall. When she'd fallen to the floor, he'd kicked her in the gut.

Then he'd stopped. She'd watched through tear-filled eyes as he gingerly touched his nose, winced and went upstairs. The bedroom door had slammed shut with finality. She'd been surprised that she could walk on her own to Sophia's room and sleep in peace.

However, when she awoke to the hard pounding, she was sure Ed was coming to finish what he'd started the night before. The door was locked but she knew that would not stop him. He'd break the door down if he was determined to discipline her. Then she shook off the vestiges of sleep and realized it was coming from downstairs, the front door. She quickly slipped back into the dress she'd been wearing yesterday. She'd slept in her underwear, not daring to get her night clothes from the master bedroom.

Ed made it to the stairs before her. She drew back a little when she saw his face. His nose was askew and swollen up twice the normal size. There was also a large bruise running from his cheek up to his hairline on the side of his head. He gave her an angry look which had her cringing away from him more. "Who is it?" he called belligerently at the door as he went down the stairs.

"Sheriff," she heard Rick say from the other side.

Ed threw her another irate look but this time it was laced with fear. Had someone reported them to the law about what happened in the bar last night? Had Andrea finally gotten fed up with Ed's temper? Pulling open the door, Ed faced the Sheriff.

The man appeared to be taken aback by Ed's appearance. Apparently, he had not heard about the fight between Ed and Daryl at the bar. Ed's tone was confrontational. "What?"

Rick stuttered a little as he started talking. "Um…good morning, Ed. Ah, I was actually here to see Carol. Is she up?"

Without a word, Ed swung the door open and walked away to the kitchen. Carol came down the stairs.

"Good morning, Sheriff. What can I do for you?" she asked pleasantly, pulling the door shut as they moved out on the porch. He noticed the bruise on her face as well but didn't comment.

"Hey Carol. So sorry to be bothering you this early in the morning. I need to discuss some things with you and I don't want you to get too upset."

Hearing someone say words like that was enough to already get her worried but she steeled herself for whatever bad news might come. "Okay," she said quietly.

"Amy was stabbed last night," Rick decided to get the worst part out of the way first.

Carol's hand flew up to her mouth as she gasped in shock. "What? We saw her last night at the saloon and she was fine! Who could have done such a thing? Is she alright?"

Taking her hand gently in an effort to calm her, Rick said, "It was two wanted criminals who were trying to steal her horse. She's not doing too badly right now but the Doc is a little worried she might get worse. Something about infection if her intestines were cut. Only time will tell. However, in light of this and all the other troubling matters in Quarry, we are going to have to shut down the school for the foreseeable future. I'm sorry."

Carol nodded. "Yes, that is completely understandable. Will you alert the parents or do you want me to do it?"

"I can do that. I have another request for you instead. Would you go down to the saloon to be with Amy? Andrea refuses to leave her bedside and I'm getting worried about her. Maybe if you are there, she'd be willing to lie down for an hour or so. Sophia is having a grand time at our house with Carl so she can stay with us for the rest of the day."

"Absolutely. I'll go right now," Carol assured him.

Rick nodded his thanks to her and then left to alert parents of the indefinite closure of the school.

Carol rushed upstairs to change. Her thoughts never left the possible fate of her best friend's sister.

**XXXXXXXXXXXX**

Daryl woke up with Carol's voice in his head. He'd been dreaming that after he'd punched her husband in the head last night, he'd fallen into a bottomless pit. She had thanked him profusely, calling him her hero. Then they'd left the saloon together, hand-in-hand. It was a pleasant, albeit unrealistic dream to him and it basically faded out of his mind as soon as he woke up.

It was much later in the day than he was used to getting up. The sun was shining fully through the window as he raised his head groggily off the pillow. Judging by its position in the sky, it was already past noon. He was confused momentarily by his surroundings, knowing he was not in his house. Then the memories of last night's events surfaced.

He'd spent a good portion of the night at the sheriff's station. It was like Rick wanted him there as back-up if anything happened with the two criminals. Even Shane didn't say anything about his presence there, just ignored him. The dangerous men were each in their own cell, although there was only a row of bars between the two cells. The handcuffs had been removed and the doors locked tight but there was no way they were going to be left alone at any time. Tony had been muttering some about not deserving this and it was unsure if he was talking to them or himself. Dave was deathly quiet, just staring intensely at them.

Around 3am, he left to go check on the women at the bar. He found Amy was sleeping but Andrea and Milton were softly talking outside her room. Andrea looked so tried but she refused to go to sleep, afraid that Amy might die any moment. Daryl had sat silently with them for a while, mostly to make sure that nothing bad happened while they were so vulnerable. Andrea offered the empty room next door for him and he decided that if he was going to get any sleep, he'd feel better if he was close. He just wished he'd brought his crossbow.

Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he started pulling on his pants. That was when he realized he really did hear Carol's voice. It was coming from the hallway just outside his door. She was talking with the sheriff's wife.

"Amy seems comfortable, she's just reading a book. Still painful if she tries to move and she has absolutely no appetite. According to Doc Greene, we shouldn't force her to eat. Milton went to sleep when I got here early this morning but I only got Andrea to sleep about an hour ago. I doubt she'll sleep long but every minute counts. Thanks so much for coming over here, Lori. I have to go take care of a few things at the school house before I close it up. And thanks for arranging for Beth to watch the kids. Sophia loves Beth like a big sister."

"It's no trouble at all, Carol. Sophia is being good as gold. I heard about what happened last night…um, with you and Ed. So Sophia can stay with us until everything is okay at home," Lori offered.

Daryl could barely hear Carol's voice through the door as it was just a whisper of emotion. "Thanks."

He heard her feet on the stairs and looked out the window as she came out of the building below him. She was walking stiffly and it tore him up just thinking about what her asshole husband must have done to her after they left the bar. Then he felt kind of creepy just watching her and decided he needed to check on her himself. Figuring he's already gotten the update and not wanting to talk to the sheriff's wife, he left silently.

She was very surprised when he walked in the door to the school house. After what had happened the night before, she expected him never to interact with her again. It was a loss that she had not even begun to process but knew was going to leave a hole in her. Yet, here he was in her doorway, looking around nervously just like he had every other time he'd come to see her.

"Got time for a story?" he asked, seeming a little jumpy.

She wanted to kiss him. Last night he'd come to blows with her husband and here he was asking for her to read him a story. It made it seem like life was normal, despite all the surreal things happening around them.

"Yes," she told him and they took their respectively places at the desk. Flipping open the book, she said, "This one is from the Navajo tribe about why the stars are not uniform across the sky." She started to read in her clear voice that made him relax.

_A long time ago they used to say, the Holy people came together and had a meeting. During this time, there was no sun, moon or stars in existence. Because the world was quite cold and dark at this time, they decided to create the sun and the moon. Because Coyote had gotten them into trouble already, they left him out of these plans._

_They formed the sun out of hard goods, seeds and corn, which looked like puberty cake. For the moon, they used perfect white shell. Both of these they laid down on a buckskin that was killed without any arrows. While they were busy planning the arrangement of the stars, Coyote came up to them and asked, 'What are you guys planning?' The first three times they responded, 'We're not doing anything.' The fourth time he inquired, they said, 'We're busy with something very important. Leave us alone until we are done.' Hurt and offended Coyote ran over a hill and was not seen for some time._

_The Holy People asked of the Changing Woman's son, Turquoise Boy, to enter the sun. White Shell Girl was asked to enter the moon. Both were given a flute that would cause both the Sun and Moon to move in proper synchronization when they were played._

First Man and First Woman planned the sun to follow certain trails. The sun would have 102 trails. The moon would also follow particular trails. So they also decided the moon would have 102 trails. Their flight patterns would cross in March and September. Both Turquoise Boy and White Shell Girl wanted reimbursement, saying that their ability to provide light would not be free. In payment for this, Turquoise Boy said that a portion of the earth's population would have to pay with their lives. White Shell Girl wanted the authority to control the tides with her movements. The Holy People agreed that this would be a good arrangement. For this reason, the sun sets lower in horizon in July and returns in December giving us the summer and winter months and the moon has the ability to control the tides. Among medicine men, the point at which the sun starts returning is called Sha Niilt-jah, which is the winter and summer solstices.

Before the Holy People had begun planning how the stars would be arranged, Coyote ran among the people from over the horizon. He grabbed the buckskin sheet that the stars were laid upon with his teeth and threw the stars up in the sky, scattering them in an unorganized arrangement across the sky.

_The Holy People then asked, 'Why have you done this?' Coyote responded, 'You left me out of your decision making.' After that, Coyote began naming the various constellations.  
After he was done, one star fell back to earth. Coyote picked it up and said, 'This will be my star. It will be called So' Tsoh.' He hung this at the horizon, and it still shines brightly there early in the morning._

After this Coyote continued, 'Because I was left out, I will add extra days so the months will not be even. I will also change the moon's flight patterns so there will be 13 moon periods, not 12 alone.

Carol turned the book so that Daryl could see the drawing of the coyote shaking the buckskin, throwing the stars all over the sky. He chuckled a little at the imagery. Carol put the book down on the desk and he eyes glided over him.

"Oh Daryl, your hand!" she exclaimed, reaching for his right hand. The knuckles were scabbed and bruised, both from punching Ed's face and the wall behind the saloon. He stood up quickly and she mimicked him unconsciously, her focus completely absorbed in his injured hand. "You did this last night, because of him," she said distressed and looked up at him. Her eyes held his and he felt like she was looking into his soul.

"Thank you," she said quietly but sincerely.

Without thinking, she leaned towards him and kissed him lightly on the cheek.

He leapt back away from her, pulling his hand out of hers harshly. His cheek felt like it was burned from where she kissed him. In fact, his whole body felt like it was on fire. He didn't understand why he felt like this. His emotions were out of control when he was around her and he didn't like it.

She was horrified, knowing that she had invaded his space. Judging by how he had pulled away from her and was now cringing, she knew it had been unwelcome. She had pushed him too far.

"Daryl, I'm sorry," she breathed out as tears came to her eyes.

He had to get away from her. He couldn't handle her tears. He had a hurricane of feelings inside him and he felt like he was cornered even though she made no move to come near him.

He bolted out the door, trying to unsuccessfully not to hear her choking sobs behind him.


	17. Chapter 17

Thanks everyone for the encouragement on the last chapter! If you've read any of my other stories, I basically already have Daryl and Carol involved or about to get involved (which is how I wrote it in 'Hallucinations'). This is my first time tackling it from the more difficult aspect of a newly budding relationship and I want to stay true to the characters.

I do not own The Walking Dead or The Twilight Zone but I love those who do.

**Chapter 17**

Sophia skipped along the main road running through Quarry, following behind Carl and his dad as they walked to the General Store. She and Carl had had a lot of fun the night before. After helping Lori make a yummy apple pie, they got to stay up late and Carl showed her all the different constellations in the stars.

Sheriff Rick had not come home before they'd gone to sleep and he only came home this morning when they were eating breakfast. He looked real tired. His wife looked mad but then they gone into the other room to talk so she couldn't hear anything but angry whispers.

Carl had looked troubled over that so she'd decided to distract him with an impromptu game of tag, hitting his shoulder and crying "You're it!" before taking off up the stairs. He could never resist that game and it worked. She had smiled happily hearing him giggling as he chased after her.

Then his father had come up to the room, his face looking sad. He'd explained carefully what happened with Amy and that they would not be going to school for at least the next few days. He'd made it very clear that they were never to be out of sight of an adult until all of this was resolved. Both children completely understood. Sophia wondered if this was what it was like to have a father who actually cared about you. It felt nice and she was slightly jealous of Carl.

Now they were headed to the Greene farm for Beth to look after them. This was the best outcome they could have hoped for considering they weren't allowed out on their own anymore. Beth was so sweet, never yelled at them and she came up with some of the best games. Yet, Rick had sweetened the deal with the children to be good by promising that they could get one item at the General Store on the way there, whether it be a game, a book or a piece of candy.

As they entered the store, Glenn greeted them warmly from the counter. "Morning, Sheriff! Rough night?"

Rick nodded then turned back to the kids. "Why don't you two go pick out what you want?" he directed them, gesturing to the toy section on the other side of the store. Sophia had a feeling he was trying to get rid of them so the adults could talk.

Carl ran ahead, grabbing at several toys to examine them carelessly before deciding which one he wanted. Sophia paid no attention to the toys, creeping back up the farthest aisle so the adults wouldn't see her but she could hear them talking.

Dale came out of the back room when he heard Glenn talking to the Sheriff. "Sheriff, how glad I am to see you! I was just putting together some things for the girls over at the saloon. I am hopeful that Amy is going to through this travesty. What are your plans for the two men that hurt her?"

"Their fate has not been decided yet. We are all pulling for Amy to make it through this though," Rick said gently, knowing how close the older man was with the two saloon owners.

"I just still cannot believe what happened last night. It wasn't even a full moon and yet it feels like people went crazy. First that brawl between Ed and Daryl, which I still feel like was my fault and then those men stabbing our Amy!" Dale expressed dramatically.

Rick frowned, as did Sophia hiding behind the shelves at hearing her father's name.

"Is that what happened to Ed Peletier's face?" Rick asked surprised.

Of course, that was the moment Carl decided to run up with her, excitedly showing her his find. It looked simply like a flat ball with a string attached.

"It's called a yo-yo!"

Sophia squeezed his shoulder, her finger going to her lips in a demand for silence so she could hear what was being said about this brawl between her father and Daryl. Even though she talked to Merle more than his brother, Sophia liked the quiet man. There was intensity about him that made him seem strong. When he'd walked her and her mom to school, she really got to see him and it made her feel safe. Safer than she'd ever felt around her own father.

She focused back on the conversation about this brawl.

"I'm sorry, Sheriff. I know you said to alert you to when I was going to discuss Ed's debt with him but I couldn't help myself. He was just throwing that money away on gambling! The words were out of my mouth before I thought about it," Dale conveyed.

"Wait, I thought you said the brawl was between Ed and Daryl? How did he get involved if you were the one that set off Ed?" Rick questioned.

Dale sighed and then launched into the story. "I'm pretty sure he was about to pound me into the floor for what I'd said. He'd already drank a good amount. Then poor Carol came out of nowhere and stopped him. He smacked her right across the face for that."

Sophia covered her mouth to stop herself for making any noise on behalf of her mother. It wasn't like she hadn't seen him hit her before, although usually it was behind closed doors. Often it was just the bruises afterwards she saw. However, to hear someone outside of their house describe her father hitting her mother put a new kind of hurt on it. Even Carl tensed next to her, listening to Dale say it.

Rick hadn't said anything, waiting for Dale to continue. He knew what had been going on with Ed and Carol but without her directly coming to him for help, Rick was socially obligated to stay out of their martial issues. Didn't mean he liked it.

"Then Daryl punched Ed right in the face. Maybe twice. I'm not sure; it all happened so fast. Andrea kicked him out and Carol ended up going with him. Poor woman, to have to go home with that. When I first heard that Amy had been stabbed, I initially thought Ed might have done it in retaliation. But then I found out about the two wanted men," Dale finished.

"Good for Daryl," Rick murmured before his tone became more serious. "Shane is monitoring them right now while we decide the correct course of action. I am alerting the townsfolk about this." Twisting his head around, he called out, "You kids found anything yet?"

Sophia and Carl both jumped at having his attention put back on them. Carl darted around her, yo-yo in hand. Sophia just grabbed a paperback book off the rack in front of her without really looking at it.

Dale was already demonstrating the yo-yo to Carl, who was fascinated by the up-and-down motion of it. He tried it himself but the wooden ball just fell to the end of the string with a thunk. He seemed disappointed.

"Don't worry, my boy. I bet you'll master it in no time," Dale said encouragingly while ruffling his hair.

"Sophia?" Rick asked, holding out her item for purchase. She handed him the book and he peered at it somewhat confused.

"You really want 'Journey to the Center of the Earth' by Jules Verne? You don't want a doll or something?" Rick asked her.

Sophia thought for a second, knowing this would be her chance to actually look for something else. Yet, hearing the title of the book intrigued her. She shook her head no.

"You got it, kiddo," Rick said as he made the purchases for the two children.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Shane sat at the desk in the sheriff's station writing out his report on the incident at the stable. He had never written so many damn reports as he had in the past week and a half. Seemed kind of pointless to him when Rick was going to write a report also. But protocol was for both of them to write reports so as to get the best information from all angles.

Tony kicked at the bars again in his cell across the room. Shane glanced up. The bearded man had been getting more and more worked up as time passed. He was practically crying now. His mumblings had become full out statements, which seemed partially to be aimed at Shane and partially just rantings to himself.

"I can't hang. I just can't die like that. This isn't my fault. None of this was my idea. I don't want to die. We never should have come to this shitty little town." It kept going on and on, blaming everything in the world except for himself for his circumstances.

Shane smiled a little, enjoying the show. He liked watching the fat man squirming. Didn't matter what he said, he was going to make sure they hung. He'd never seen a hanging and thought of it made his heart race with excitement. He was almost sure that Rick would be willing to along with it, considering how dangerous these men were and what they had done to Amy.

His eyes shifted to Dave and his smile fell. That man had been completely silent since they'd caught him. His eyes were like dead, black holes just boring into his soul. That man was the threat. Shane looked away quickly.

Tony started crying full out now, gripping on to the bars with both hands. His blubbering was directed fully at Shane now. "Please, man, please. Dave is the one who made all this happen. He's the one that stabbed the girl. Not me. He planned all of this. Killing the rancher, raping his daughter, all of it. I only went along with him because I felt I had to. Please don't hang me. We've still got the kid. Got him tied up out there!"

This declaration caught Shane's attention. Seemed to catch Dave's also as his head rotated towards Tony.

"What did you say? You've got a hostage?" Shane got up from the desk.

"Yes! Yes!" Tony cried, almost joyful to have roused Shane into talking to him. "It's that rancher's farm hand. Dave says he's our insurance policy but I'm cashing that in right now. Got him tied up at our camp outside of town."

"He hurt?" Shane questioned.

"Nah, although he hasn't had anything to eat or drink since we got here. Let me outta here and I'll take you right to him." Tony said excitedly.

Shane paused, rubbing his chin in thought. "Hmmm, we might be able to take hanging off the book for you if we find the boy with your help," he murmured.

"Is that so?" Dave spoke up for the first time and Shane could hear some of the boyish charm that went along with his facial features. "Let us out of here and we'll show you right where he is."

Tony looked worriedly at Dave now that the man had joined the conversation. He stayed silent, deferring to Dave.

"No way in holy hell are you getting out of her," Shane right out there. "But ya'll tell me where I can find this boy and we might forget about hanging either of you if he comes out of this safe and sound," he lied.

Tony went to speak but Dave talked right over him, shutting the weaker man up. "Two miles north of town, just off the road towards Denver. The camp is behind a large thicket and our horses are tied up there as well."

Shane debated with himself on what to do. He knew that he would be in deep shit with Rick if he left these criminals alone. Yet, for him to save a hostage would make him the hero. He'd be the celebrated one, not Rick. Not this time.

Pulling out his gun, he aimed it at the men. "Get back against the far wall," he ordered them. They both complied. Without taking the gun off them, Shane tested the locks on both doors. They held firmly.

Stepping away, he put the gun back in his holster. "Alright, you two be good while I look for this boy. It will go a long way in helping your case." Then Shane was gone.

Tony's fear of Dave was palpable but his curiosity won out. "Wh- why'd ya tell him the kid was north of town when we left him south?"

Dave wasn't listening. He had taken off the stained sheets from the bed and was tying them up into a thick rope.

"Dave? Dave, what are you doing? I'm sorry about what I said. You know I just get scared. I'm on your side, always. Okay?" Tony pleaded with him.

Dave looked up at Tony, the rope of sheets in his hands. He smiled brightly and his handsome face seemed so friendly. "Don't worry, Tony. I sent the guy on a wild goose chase to get him out of the way. Of course I know you are on my side, buddy," Dave reassured him.

Tony breathed out a sigh of relief.

"Hey Tony, give me your sheet too. I want to try to rope the sheriff against the bars when he comes back, get his gun from him," Dave explained.

Tony nodded, liking that plan. He liked any plan from Dave, especially since he wasn't so good at coming up with ideas himself. He gathered up the sheets and passed them to Dave through the bars connecting their cell. Then he put rested his back against the bars, hoping Dave's plan would work and they could get the hell out of this fucking town.

Suddenly, the cloth was strung through the bars at his back and the sheet rope was against his neck. He had no time to move as it constricted tightly around him. His hands frantically went to the material, clawing desperately at it as his airway was cut off. The fat man's face turned red as he tried to scream but no sound escaped him. Minutes passed as he fought but no relief came. His body started spasming against the bars in a last effort to break his deadly bondage. Red faded into blue as Tony's brain started to die from the lack of oxygen.

Even after he stopped struggling and his heavy body fell to the floor, Dave did not let up on the pressure of the sheet rope. The friendly smile was gone from his face, a murderous grimace replacing it.

"That's for backstabbing me, you fucking traitor."


	18. Chapter 18

Thank you so much to all my readers, followers and especially reviewers! You are all awesome and I hope I can keep up with expectations!

I do not own The Walking Dead or The Twilight Zone but I love those who do.

**Chapter 18**

Daryl Dixon kicked a rock in the road angrily and watched it skitter off into the grass before ripping open his front door. He had basically stomped his way home from the schoolhouse and was somewhat relieved to find that Merle was not home. Daryl was on the edge, ready to explode and Merle often knew just how to push him over that cliff. His brother also wouldn't hesitate to put Daryl in his place, being stronger and older. As much as it would relieve some of the tension built-up inside of him, Daryl did not want a fight with his brother. No, he wanted a fight with Ed Peletier.

Pushing that thought out of his head, Daryl went out the back door. Sky trotted up to the edge of her small enclosure and nickered at him. She was trying to get his attention. He felt a little of the tension melt out of him seeing his horse. At least she was always seemed glad to see him. He put his hands on her long face then gave her a good scratch behind her ear. She nuzzled her nose into his chest then lipped at his shirt.

Looking over, he saw that her hay bin was completely empty. "God damn it, Merle. Can't even remember to feed our fucking horse," Daryl muttered in annoyance as he threw a bale of hay in. Sky began munching away happily.

Feeling the tension returning and not wanting to knock out a wall of his own house in a fit, Daryl grabbed his crossbow and escaped into the forest. He was deluding himself into thinking he was going hunting but he wasn't even looking for prey. Usually he moved silently, observing everything and his ears open to the quietest noises. Now he was crashing through the woods, his feet loud as they kicked up dead leaves and snapped like branches.

Thoughts of Carol came unwelcome into his mind. He shook his head, trying to dispel them but they just kept coming. Her face looked so shocked when he'd wrenched his hand away from her. He could still hear her crying in his ears as he'd left her standing there. Why had she kissed him? Why did it bother him so much?

What was it about her? There had been something about her quiet but kind manner that he'd found himself drawn to, even when he'd first met her. A lot of people hadn't been nice to him and Merle when they first came to Quarry but Carol had always treated them both like they mattered. He suspected that she was actually the one to get Ed to hire Merle after he'd been fired from the Greene farm.

For years, he'd avoided her, only seeing her when absolutely necessary. He didn't understand why he got so nervous around her. He couldn't even talk to her until just recently. Truthfully, he got nervous around women a lot. Whereas Merle could turn on his silver tongue and had a woman in his bed readily, he would mumble and make a fool of himself. He was inexperienced and downright frightened of that kind of intimacy.

Daryl's father had been a worthless drunk, taking out any frustrations with his fists on his family. His mother had taken the worst of it until she died in a fire that destroyed the boarding house they'd been living in. Then Daryl took the brunt of the beatings. There had been a strange feeling of giddy relief when the sheriff of their old home town had come to their door to tell them that their daddy had been knifed to death in a barroom brawl. After that, he and Merle had moved from town to town as his older brother searched for work, women and his own demons.

One time, Merle had taken his little brother to a whorehouse in Texas and bought him a night of fun. Daryl had barely been seventeen years old and couldn't even look a girl in the eye. Merle wanted to make sure that his baby brother didn't become a sissy. They'd locked him a room with this woman who was barely wearing anything. She may have looked good from a distance but up close, the flaws showed through her heavy make-up. Her eyes were red and tired and when she'd kissed him, her mouth had tasted like ash and stale alcohol. He'd had to fight off vomiting and she had not gotten the hint when he pulled his head away from her. Then she'd touched him _there_.He'd reacted violently, shoving her off him and kicking down the door. Merle had tackled him as he'd tried to run out, kicking his ass something awful for wasting his money. It had been a humiliating night and Daryl had been glad that Merle had since laid off him about women. Well, except for the occasional snippy comment just to embarrass Daryl.

Daryl had been somewhat wary about coming to Quarry after Merle had won their little property in a poker game. Yet, just a few years later, he felt like he'd become a productive member of the community. Even Merle was working and starting to act like an adult. It was something Daryl had never thought he'd live to see.

Carol invaded his thoughts again, her pretty smile welcoming him whenever he saw her. He hated her husband so much laying is hands on her. Seeing that bruise across her cheek had made him want to reach out and-

What? What had he wanted to do? He didn't know and that made him mad. He kicked a tree, feeling the jolt of his foot colliding with the wood travel up his leg. It jogged his senses a little and he came out of his fog of thoughts.

Studying the terrain around him, he realized that he had gone a lot further than he intended. Due to his extensive hunting, he knew the land well for miles around Quarry.

A noise off to his right disturbed his thinking. It was a quiet sound, like a snort. Bringing his crossbow up, he moved silently towards it. Might have been a deer. If he caught it, then this stupid, emotion foray into the woods might not have been completely worthless.

Another noise made him stop for a moment. It was louder, more like the whinny of an upset horse. He moved forward again as he crossed out of the forest and into a clearing. He could see the road leading to Quarry from the south in the distance. His finger rested on the trigger of the crossbow, knowing there was not going to be any deer in front of him but possibly something more dangerous.

The horse was tied to a stake in the ground and there had been a good amount of leeway to the rope. However, almost all of the grass around the stake had been clipped off, indicating the horse had been there a while. The beast was getting frustrated, pulling at the rope attached to its head. It nervously skitted away from him when it spotted him coming up behind it.

There were two other horses, similarly staked but not acting concerned like this horse. Daryl could see a camp on the other side of them, the fire dead in the middle. It looked like all the gear had been packed up for an imminent departure but been left behind anyway.

A muffled sound caught his attention from behind the skittish horse. Carefully leaving room so the frightened animal couldn't kick him, Daryl walked to the other side of the camp. His eyes landed on a man, bound and gagged. A rope attached to his hands tied behind his back was firmly anchored to another stake. The man looked at him with desperation.

After making sure they were indeed alone, Daryl went over to him and pulled the gag out of his mouth.

"Help! Help me!" he cried.

"Shhh, calm down kid," Daryl hushed him, seeing that the man couldn't have been much over the age of twenty. "What the hell happened to you?"

"Got kidnapped by these two psychos. They killed my boss and raped his daughter. She was my friend. I don't know why they took me; I'm not worth nothing. Told me they'd be back in just a few hours but that was almost a day ago. I've been so scared but then I heard you in-"

Daryl cut off the boy's rant. "One of those guys a pretty boy and the other guy fat?"

"Yeah, that's them. Dave and Tony. What happened to them? They get killed?" he asked, his voice still holding a note of hysteria.

"Not yet," Daryl growled.

"Hey mister? You got any water? I'm real thirsty."

Daryl didn't have any water. He hadn't been exactly thinking clearly when he'd left his house to go on this pretend hunting trip.

He shook his head and then pulled out his knife. Careful not to cut the boy, he stripped off the ropes from around his wrists.

"What's yer name?" Daryl asked him as the young man stretched out his arms for the first time in almost a day.

"Randall."

"Gotta get you to the sheriff, kid."


	19. Chapter 19

Just a heads up that I will not be getting nearly as much writing done this week as I would like to. Got to get as much paperwork done as I can because over the weekend I am going to Philadelphia Comic Con. Do you know who's going to be there? NORMAN REEDUS and MICHAEL ROOKER! That's right! I get to share air with Daryl and Merle Dixon! So excited! In addition, there will be Summer Glau and Gina Torres from Firefly/Serenity, James Marsters from Buffy, William Shatner and Stan Lee. I am in nerd girl heaven!

I do not own The Walking Dead or The Twilight Zone but I love those who do.

**Chapter 19**

Rick was utterly exhausted as he made his way back to the sheriff's station. He'd been up a good portion of the night dealing with the prisoners and then spent the day alerting the townsfolk about the situation. It was now late afternoon and he was just getting finished at the saloon with Doc Greene, checking in on Amy's progress. The young woman had some a few hours ago when she drank some water and she was still weak. The Doc was still worried about her, as was the rest of the town.

For the next six hours, Rick figured things should be pretty quiet but there was no way he was going to leave those men locked up without supervision. He would relieve Shane and let the man sleep until about midnight. Then Rick would finally get some sleep until morning.

The first thing he noticed as he walked through the door was that Shane wasn't at the desk. He frowned because there weren't exactly a lot of places to hang out in the little station. Then he looked over at the jail cells and his breath caught in his throat at the horrific scene before him.

Dave was pressed up against the farthest wall of his cell, his body jammed into the corner. The carefully-schooled expression of self-assurance was gone, replaced by one of stark terror. He was panting, his chest heaving as he tried unsuccessfully to make his body smaller. He spotted the sheriff and his hoarse voice whispered out, "Help me."

In the other cell was Tony. Or at least what used to be Tony. Now the large man looked like the walking dead. His skin was utterly white, bordering on grey in some places. His eyes, which were open wide, were a milky bluish color and rimmed with red. From his mouth came the dreadful sounds of groaning and snapping as he gnashed his jaws together. His neck had turned purple and was swollen up to an even larger diameter than it had been in life.

Even scarier than how he looked was how he was acting. His arms were through the bars connecting the two cells as far as they could possibly go. It appeared that he had been rubbing the skin off as he struggled, large areas open and oozing dark, clotting blood. His fingers were clutching, trying to claw forward in the air. Dave was his intended target and he was only about 6 inches away from capturing the terrified man. Without care for the iron bars holding him back, Tony was smashing his body against them with bone-cracking strength. Rick winced at the sound of it.

"What the fuck happened? Where is Shane?" Rick spat out, his question directed at Dave.

Suddenly, Tony stilled. It was almost more disconcerting than when he was slamming against the bars. His body shift sideways towards Rick's voice, like he hadn't noticed him until he spoke. The milky eyes moved over him in an extremely disconcerting manner. Then Tony rushed the bars again, this time in Rick's direction. Due to the different angle, he was now crashing his head into a bar. The nose instantly was mashed into his face, spewing black blood down the front of his already disgusting shirt. It did nothing to slow him down.

"Jesus Christ, what happened to him?" Rick shouted.

"I don't know! I swear! He just grabbed his chest and fell over. I thought he was dead and then it was like he came back to life like this!" Dave shouted back, not daring to move out of the corner.

"Where's Shane?" he asked again, keeping himself well away from the grasping fingers.

"Your deputy? He bailed out of here."

"When this happened?" Rick pressed him. Maybe Shane was out looking for him because of this.

"Nah, he left before that," Dave informed him, telling the truth but leaving out the most important part of why Shane left.

Rick's thoughts on Shane's absence were interrupted by Tony. The monster opened up his mouth, making a horrid gurgling noise. Then a huge spew of black blood flowed out across the space between him and Rick. Rick jumped backwards with a cry, narrowly avoiding it striking him. It had been a back flow of blood built-up in his dead throat from the broken nose. Tony went back to thrashing against the bars.

Rick started talking to himself, even though Dave was listening intently. "This must be what that woman was like when Merle killed her. He had said she was already dead but still moving. I didn't get it when he said it but now I understand perfectly. He's a Wendigo."

"What the hell is a Wendigo?" Dave questioned him.

"An Indian myth about a demon that possess dead people, making them rise again to feed on human flesh. I thought it was a bunch of bullshit," Rick told him as he unhooked the strap holding his gun in place.

"Shit. Don't seem like bullshit at the moment," Dave snorted. "Kill the bastard," he advised Rick, seeing the sheriff unholstering his weapon.

Rick aimed carefully and fired a bullet straight into his chest. The monster was pushed backward by the impact, black blood spraying out the back from the exit wound. Tony's legs hit the bunk and his body sagged down on the bed. More black blood flowed freely out of the entrance wound. Rick walked closer to the cell to investigate. It seemed like the gun shot had taken him out.

Unexpectedly, Tony's head flew back and a loud roar came out of his mouth. With a speed uncharacteristic for a man his size, Tony launched himself off the bed at Rick. The sheriff backpedaled as the monster ran full force into the bars again. Rick brought the gun up again and shot three more bullets into him but it didn't seem nearly as effective as the first one initially had.

In a whirl of motion, an arrow buried itself in Tony's head. The dead, fat man tottered unsteadily at first before crashing to the ground. He was truly dead now.

Rick and Dave both twisted their head quickly to see where that arrow had come from. Daryl Dixon stood in the doorway to the sheriff's station, his crossbow up. Seeing that the monster wasn't going to be getting back up, he lowered the weapon and tilted his head at the shocked lawman.

"Thank god, Daryl. How did you know that would work?" Rick asked, still stunned by what had just transpired.

"Heard it in a story," Daryl said. Then he moved aside, revealing Randall. "Found this guy tied up out by the south road. Says he was kidnapped by those two," Daryl said, his eyes darting to Dave.

Rick, who was starting to compose himself, frowned. Then he went over to the desk and grabbed a wanted poster. After scanning it quickly, Rick looked at the young man. "Randall."

Randall had been staring at Tony's dead body but his head whipped up to Rick at the mention of his name. "Yes, sir."

"Shit, you've got to be kidding me," a fuming voice said from outside the doorway. Shane spat on the ground, glaring first at Randall and then at Daryl. "You found the kid? Fucking Daryl Dixon," Shane rolled his eyes. It looked like he had been in a fight with a large plant. There were grass stains all over his pants and dirt on his disheveled shirt. Pieces of foliage clung to his hair and there was a tiny cut along his cheek.

Rick's face was starting to turn red and it looked like he was going to explode but he kept his voice low. "Where have you been?" he asked through gritted teeth as he held his temper in check.

"Been searching for this guy, the kidnapped farm hand," he stated as if he had done nothing wrong at all. "They told me they had him stashed on the north road so I figured I'd better find him soon or else he'd die of dehydration or exposure."

"You left them here alone?" Rick still had that low but dangerous quality to his voice. "You know you're never to leave a prisoner here alone."

"They were both locked up tight in their cells and I knew you'd be back sometime soon. I thought the kid was more important to find," Shane explained, as if Rick should have realized that. He didn't understand what the problem was. Then he processed Rick's tone and the barely suppressed anger on his face. Shane's expressed changed to one of concern. "Why? Did something happen?"

"Come look," Rick ordered him, stepping out of the way.

Shane came into the room and made a strangled cry when he saw the dead, grotesque body of Tony. "Fuck! How did that happen?"

It was too much for Rick and he got right into the other man's face. "I don't know! No one was here watching to know how this happened! You weren't doing your job!" he screamed at his deputy.

Shane held his hands up in a placating manner. "I'm sorry. I thought it would be better to find the kid."

"Well, you'd better think about this mess you're going to have to clean up!" Rick yelled.

Shane put his head down and nodded, accepting his punishment. Rick swiftly walked out on the porch to cool down. Daryl and Randall were still there, witnessing the whole exchange. Shane directed his attention to Daryl and gestured towards the dead body. "What happened to him?"

"Became a Wendigo," Daryl stated.

"I thought that was a bunch of made-up Indian crap."

"Does it look like made-up Indian crap to you?" Daryl growled back at him. Then he grabbed Randall's arm and took him outside. Rick had his eyes closed, drawing in cleansing breaths of fresh air. He appeared to be getting himself under control but Daryl could see the exhaustion in the man's eyes.

"Daryl, can you get Doc Greene? He's probably still across the street with Amy. We need to get this body back to his office and figure out exactly what happened to him." Rick's voice sounded like he was just starting to accept the fact that it would be a long time until he got sleep again.

Daryl nodded then said to Randall, "Come on, kid. They got the best beef stew over there in the whole territory of Colorado."


	20. Chapter 20

Just found out that Philly Comic Con is adding Jon Bernthal to the list of guests for this weekend. So now I get Daryl, Merle and Shane! Whoo hoo! I don't mean to make people jealous, I am just so excited for it. Thanks everyone for putting up with me and hopefully I can get at least another chapter out before I disappear into the con.

I do not own The Walking Dead or The Twilight Zone but I love those who do.

**Chapter 20**

The bright sun was starting its descent towards the horizon in the west. Merle Dixon awoke peacefully from his late afternoon nap in the hay loft. He stretched languidly then laid back in the soft hay for a few more minutes, collecting his thoughts.

He hated to admit it but he really loved this job. He'd never been at a job as long as this one, usually getting fired for sleeping on the job or pissing off the boss with his mouth. Okay, sometimes with his fist. Not that he didn't want to punch out Ed Peletier; that guy was a complete asshole. Yet, it seemed like the guy didn't give a shit about his own farm. On many days, he'd go out into the fields and Merle had no idea what he was doing out there.

Even stranger to Merle was that he actually liked the work. Feeding the animals, milking the cow, baling up the hay, collecting the eggs and collecting the corn at harvest time seemed to have a calming effect on him. Despite the fact that he came in late and took leisurely naps, he always seemed to get what needed to be done finished before the sun set. It helped that Ed hardly ever checked up on him. The freedom to do it at his own pace and in whatever order he felt like that day really helped him to keep his temper in check.

His thoughts drifted over to the woman he'd met at the saloon the night before, Karen. She was a pretty thing, even if she was a little older than what he normally went for. Granted, he was getting older as well and it had been a couple years since he'd had to employ his charms. She had seemed to respond positively and he was sure he was going to get laid that night. That was until they arrived at the little house she was staying in at the Greene farm and some little shit teenager came up to them calling her 'mom'. Merle Dixon did not fuck with women with kids. He beat a hasty retreat, which she did not seem to notice, interpreting it as him being a gentleman, delivering her home safe and sound. Whatever, if that's what she wanted to believe.

In the past, that would have been the end. He wouldn't have bothering thinking about her again, would have just moved onto the next piece of ass to come his way. Yet, here he was, thinking about her again. Shit, maybe he really was becoming an adult. Just like his baby brother wanted him to be.

He frowned as he thought about his brother. The guy hadn't come home the night before, the house empty when he'd gotten up this morning. Had he really drank that much that he couldn't drag himself up the road?

"Hey Merle, you up there?" a voice interrupted his thoughts. He scrambled down out of the loft but relaxed some when he realized it was a female voice. Below him stood Maggie and Beth Greene along with Sophia and Karen's son, whose name he never bothered committing to memory.

"Taking a little nap? We could practically hear the snoring from the road," Maggie goaded him.

A smirk came to his lips as he jumped down off the ladder. "Well, what have we got here? What's the brat pack doin' all the way 'cross town?"

Maggie rolled her eyes at him. "Shove it Merle," she grumbled at him.

"I sure do know where I'd like to shove it," he muttered then chuckled as Maggie's eyebrows shot up and Beth grabbed her arm to stop her from retaliating. Maggie was always a little on edge around him, ever since he grabbed her ass when he was working on their farm. Of course, she had slugged him in the face for it but he thought it was worth the hit. Come to think of it, that might have been the reason he got fired.

Karen's son snickered and Maggie smacked him on the arm instead. "Shut up, Noah!" The kid clammed up but he couldn't keep the smile off his lips. Hmm, maybe this kid wasn't so bad.

"Don't listen to him. He says stuff like that all the time but he really is soft underneath," Sophia piped in.

"Whatcha doin' callin' me soft? Fuck that," Merle spat out. Beth and Maggie looked horrified by his language but Noah was having a hard time trying not to laugh and Sophia just kept smiling at him, knowing she was right.

Maggie took a calming breath. "Look Merle, we're bringing Sophia back. Carol's still helping Andrea with Amy and we have no idea where Ed is. He's not in the house. Can you watch Sophia until one of them gets back?"

"I'm not a damn babysitter. I got stuff to do," he said, gesturing vaguely around the farm. Then he paused, catching what she was saying. "What happened with Amy?"

"Didn't you hear?" Beth chimed in. "She got stabbed in the stable last night."

Merle gave her an incredulous look. "By accident? Who did it?"

"Not by accident. It was two outlaws trying to steal her horse. Luckily, T-Dog and your brother were there to stop them and get the sheriff," Beth explained further.

"My brother?" Merle was even more shocked. They all nodded their heads affirmatively. Including the fight with Ed, his brother sure did have an interesting evening. No wonder the guy didn't make it home.

"She gonna be okay?" he asked, surprised that he was truly concerned for the girl's well-being. She had always been sweet to him when he was at the saloon, even if she blew off all of his advances.

"Daddy's not sure. He says only time will tell."

"We've got to get back before dinner time. You watch her?" Maggie glared, daring him to say something else to set her off.

"I'm just goin' to watch you a little longer as yer leavin'," he smiled slyly at her. That was the last straw for Maggie and she stepped forward, smacking her fist into his shoulder. Merle laughed loudly, even if she did pack a bit of a punch. He stumbled back a little, continuing to laugh.

"Boy, that Chinaman of yours is sure gonna have his hands full with you!" he cackled.

"He's Korean!" she screamed in anger.

Noah was in hysterics from the exchange. Almost looked like he was going to have an asthma attack but then he got a hold of himself and said to Merle, "Glenn is already completely pussy-wiped."

"Noah!" Beth cried, grabbing his arm and dragging him off. Merle looked on after the boy, a new found respect with that comment. Maybe he could consider getting with a woman who had a kid like that.

Maggie shot him an icy look then asked Sophia, "You going to be okay?"

"No problem, he's all talk. Be careful going back!" Sophia told her, waving as Maggie walked after the other two.

Merle side-eyed Sophia. "Let's go, ya little imp," he said as he walked towards the dairy barn. "Gotta milk yur old as dirt cow."

Sophia ran in ahead of him. "Don't be mean to Bessie. Her milk makes the best cheese in town," she told him as she pet the elderly cow's neck. Merle got down to the business of milking and it was silent for a moment before Sophia broached the subject that had been on her mind. "So were you at the saloon last night?"

"Yep but I was gone before that thing happened with Amy." Merle said without looking up from his task.

"Were you there when your brother punched my dad?" she asked cunningly.

That made Merle stop and glance at her. "Where'd ya hear 'bout that?"

She shrugged nonchalantly. "Sheriff Rick was talking about it to Dale. They didn't know I was listening to them."

Merle grinned in approval. "You are a crafty little thing, ain't ya?"

"So did Daryl break my dad's nose? How many times did he hit him?"

Merle took note to the interest in her voice. It sure sounded like she wanted to hear the details of her dad getting his ass handed to him. "Couple times in the head."

Sophia smiled widely. "Was he bleeding?"

"Oh yeah, his nose was gushing all over the place. Why you so interested in hearin' 'bout yur daddy getting beat? Not very lady-like of you," Merle pointed out.

"I hate him," she stated simply. Merle nodded because he could understand that. His own daddy hadn't been such a great father.

"What did you just say?" came a dangerously low voice from the door. There he stood silhouetted in the door like a giant shadow devil blocking out the light. His face was purple and swollen from last night's incident but his eyes were focused intently on his daughter. In an instant, Sophia's face went from mirthful to abject terror. She realized that he had heard what she'd said. Ed quickly advanced on Sophia, who tried to cringe back away from him but he grabbed the front of her dress. She was held in place.

"You will respect me as your father, you little whore!" he screamed in her face.

Merle was already on his feet, the bucket of milk spilled across the floor in his urgency. Unfortunately, he just could not react fast enough.

Ed pulled Sophia up off her feet and then flung her away from him with all his might. Her small body sailed through the air across the barn and then stopped suddenly as she collided with the wall. Her body fell to the floor with a thunk and she laid there stunned.

A beat later, Merle was on top of Ed, his fist landing in the same spot on Ed's face as his brother's had the night before. It didn't take much to knock the large man off his feet as the pain enveloped him. Merle kicked him squarely in the ribs before taking a quick look back at Sophia. She was starting to sit up.

From the ground, Ed bellowed, "I told you to mind your own business, you fucking redneck! You're fired! Get the hell off my farm!" Then he spit red blood on the floor as he brought his body up on his hands and knees.

"Oh yeah, well I fucking quit! Here's my resignation notice!" Merle kicked his boot hard into Ed mid-section again, flipping the man onto his back.

Sophia got to her feet, a little wobbly at first but then she took off at full speed out of the barn. Merle spit on Ed and then took off after her. He wanted to make sure she was alright after getting thrown around like that.

Ed laid on prone on the floor for a while. It hurt to breath and he wondered if the redneck had broken one of his ribs. His face was throbbing awfully and he'd bit his tongue hard enough that blood was trickling down his throat. He coughed some of it out but pain exploded from his nose when he did that. He passed out.

When he came to, he wasn't quite sure how long he'd been out. He crawled over to back of the barn and pried up a loose floor board. Underneath was a bottle of moonshine. It had been Merle's but Ed had stolen it and hidden it here a while ago. Taking the bottle, he got up slowly and limped out into his fields.


	21. Chapter 21

Comic Con was great! I actually met Norman Reedus, got an autograph and a hug! The Walking Dead panel with Norman, Michael Rooker and Jon Bernthal was very fun, even none of them were on at the same time. Norman was very sweet, Michael was very energetic with a Mohawk, and Jon was very passionate when he spoke. I got a little choked up when he mentioned how much he loved everyone on the cast and his voice like emphasized Melissa McBride. I also was about 5 feet away from Michael Rooker when he came in Sunday to sign and did a little dance making fun of Norman. Anyway, if you want any more details or photos (I got one on the sly from the back of Norman bending over a table to sign comics), PM me.

Now on with the story, which I wrote a good chunk of while waiting in line for Norman. Yes, I could look up and see him when I wrote this. Consider that as you read…

I do not own The Walking Dead or The Twilight Zone but I love those who do.

**Chapter 21**

Carol wiped her eyes then smoothed out her dress. She had cried enough after Daryl had stormed out on her. She felt so foolish but maybe if she made herself useful, she could forget about it for a little while. Picking herself out of the desk chair, she locked the school house and headed back to the saloon.

She pushed through the swinging doors and pasted a smile on her lips as she nodded to T-Dog. Over the years with Ed, she had learned how to adequately bury her feelings quickly. Of course, Daryl's very negative response to her kiss had been unexpected and she'd been overwhelmed with the intensity of her emotions. They kind of all poured out of her in a gush of tears.

T-Dog gave her a crooked smile as he wiped down the already clean counter. He was just as worried about Amy as anyone but he was going to go crazy without something to do. Hence the bar was open, even if the only people there were Dale and Glenn getting a drink after closing shop and checking on Amy. Glenn raised his glass to her in salute as she walked by. Her smile became genuine at that, even if she wasn't sure what she'd done to deserve it.

At the top of the stairs leading to the boarding rooms, Carol gently knocked on Andrea and Amy's apartment door. It opened, revealing a tired looking Milton. She knew he'd been up most of the night supporting Andrea, who had been frantic about her sister. Carol had been there earlier and had actually gotten the woman to sleep for a few hours but she doubted it had been overly restful. Milton opened the door wide, motioning her in.

"I'm glad you're here. Maybe you can get her out of that room. She's driving Amy crazy," he told her in a low voice.

"How daunting of a task," she sighed. He gave her a wary smile as she started towards the open doorway. She could already hear the sisters arguing.

"Stop touching me! I don't have a fever!" Amy yelled.

"Your temperature is 99.5. That's a fever, Amy." Andrea said, her tone restrained frustration.

"Barely," Amy snorted. "Carol!" she cried out, seeing the woman in the doorway. "Help me! I want to rest but I'm afraid she's going to stick that thermometer somewhere that's not my mouth while I'm asleep."

Andrea smacked the thermometer down on the night table. Luckily it did not break. "Amy! Stop acting like such a child! You want to sleep? Good, I'll get some dinner. Don't you dare get out of that bed." With that, Andrea stormed out of the room, pulling Carol along with her. Carol managed to get the door closed behind her.

"Thank you!" Amy yelled from behind the door.

Out in the living room, Milton looked up from the book he was reading. Carol saw them make eye contact, little smiles on their lips. Oh yes, Carol thought, there is definitely something going on there.

Andrea turned to her and sighed. "That girl is driving me crazy but at least she's alive to do it. For that I'm thankful." Andrea then gave her a good look over and frowned. "What's wrong?"

Uh-oh. Carol turned up the brightness of her smile. "Nothing. I'm just worried about Amy."

Andrea narrowed her eyes at Carol then turned around to Milton. "Hey Milton?" she asked sweetly. "Can you grab us a couple bowls of that corn chowder that T-Dog's serving downstairs?"

"Absolutely." The man looked relieved to have a job to do.

As soon as he left, Andrea whipped back around to Carol and pulled her down on the sofa. "Don't tell me there's nothing wrong. You've been crying; I can tell. What happened?"

"Nothing for you to worry about. Just let it go," Carol tried, even knowing the effort was futile. Andrea was like a dog with a bone once she set her mind on something.

"Carol..." Andrea's tone was firm, indicating she definitely wasn't going to let it go.

"Fine!" Carol huffed then looked up at the ceiling. "I did something stupid." Andrea waited for her to continue. "Something really, really stupid."

"Come on, Carol. Your idea of doing something stupid is typical behavior for some of the men that come into this place. How bad could it be?"

"I kissed Daryl Dixon."

Andrea was not easily shocked but at that, she was speechless.

Carol started to ramble, trying to explain herself. "It was only a kiss on the cheek. I was trying to thank him for what he did for me last night. It did not go over well."

"What do you mean?"

"It was like I slapped him. He jumped away and then bolted out of there. It was awful. He'll probably avoid me forever now." Carol put her head in her hands.

"I can't believe you kissed him." Andrea was still in shock. "That is so unlike you."

"Well, it won't happen again."

"Would you want it to happen again?" Andrea questioned her.

Carol didn't answer. She was saved by Milton coming through the door with two bowls in his hands. Both women thanked him and ate the delicious chowder quietly.

Milton seemed fidgety and they looked up when he cleared his throat. "I...um, didn't mean to eavesdrop on your conversion but I couldn't help but overhear. I may not know this fellow you're talking about but I wouldn't automatically discount the possibility that he reacted that way due to overwhelming emotion."

"Yeah, overwhelming disgust," Carol muttered.

Milton shook his head. "Not necessarily. I heard about how he helped you last night. Those don't sound like the actions of a man who's disgusted by the woman he's defending."

Carol gave him an appreciative smile and stood up after her last bite of chowder. "Thank you, Milton. I doubt that is the case but I like the sentiment. I need to get home to Sophia. I'm sure Beth has brought her back by now." To Andrea, she said, "If you need anything, just send for me."

Andrea stood up and hugged her friend. "It wasn't stupid. Give my love to Sophia."

The sun was starting to set as she got outside. Carol thought about Milton's words as she walked home. It was easy to dismiss them with a shake of her head.

As she neared her house, she saw a light burning in the kitchen. She had mixed feelings about arriving. On the one hand, she missed Sophia. It had been over a day since she'd seen her little girl. However, the thought of running into her husband made her feel sick. It wouldn't be long now that she would take Sophia and run from Quarry. She had caught Ed _looking_ at his daughter and Carol could not be there all the time to protect her.

It would be hard. She had socked away some money but they had no place to go, no shelter or friends elsewhere. It would mean giving up her family's farm, the school house her parents had built and all her friends. She just didn't see any other options to get away from him.

"Blackjack!" was the first thing she heard as she came through the front door. Crossing through the living room to the kitchen, she saw an unexpected scene. Sophia sat at the kitchen table but Ed was not the man sitting with her. It was Merle Dixon and he appeared to be playing cards with her. It was somewhat surreal to her.

"Merle Dixon! Are you teaching my daughter gambling?" she asked incredulously, even though it seemed kind of sweet that he was taking the time. It wasn't anything her own father had ever done for her.

"Hell yeah. And she's winnin' too!" he responded, getting up from the table.

"Hi Mama! I'm learning Blackjack," Sophia said excitedly.

"That's the way I learned counting," Merle commented.

"Well, thank you so much for your interest in Sophia's math skills, Merle," Carol laughed. Then her smile faded. "Where's Ed?"

"Yur motherfuckin' husband and I had a little disagreement over his parentin' skills. Even though he fired me, I weren't gonna leave the little one alone," he remarked, motioning to Sophia.

Addressing Sophia, Carol said, "Sweetie, why don't you get washed up for dinner?" Sophia looked between the two adults, nodded and slipped up the stairs. She turned back to Merle, dread in her voice. "What did he do?"

Lowering his usual exuberant voice, he said, "That asshole heard Sophia tell me she hated him. Then he threw her little body against the barn wall. I might've lost my temper a bit and added a few more bruises to what my baby brother did last night. Fucker fired me."

Carol gasped, her eyes going to the stairs Sophia had just gone up. She had looked okay.

Merle wasn't done. "Ya gotta do somethin' about him. I ain't gonna be around now and you ain't safe."

Carol nodded numbly. "Thank you, Merle. I know what I need to do," she said in a low voice.

Merle patted her roughly on the shoulder, which was meant to be a comforting gesture. Carol took it that way. Merle left out the back door and Carol went up the stairs to Sophia's room.

"Sophia?" she asked gently. The girl looked up at her mother worriedly, biting her lip. Carol wanted to cry. "Merle told me what happened. Can I see?"

"It's not bad, Mama. I don't want you to cry," Sophia told her.

"Please…" Carol whispered, trying desperately to keep the tears in for her daughter. Sophia relented, turning her body around and pulling down her dress. Carol could not help the little cry that escaped her lips when she saw the large purple bruise across Sophia's upper back. Then she pulled herself together and went to her daughter, kneeling down in front of her as she slipped her dress back up. "Does it hurt anywhere else?"

"No, but mama?" Sophia reached out and laid her hand over Carol's bruised cheek. "We need to leave him."

This time she could not stop the tears from leaking out of her eyes. "Yes, baby. Tomorrow night we will leave Quarry." She gathered her little girl into her arms and they both cried.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Ed had passed out near the edge of his corn field, not able to fight the pain inflicted on him by Merle. Time passed quietly around him as the sun set. The moon was about three-quarters full, giving off a good amount of light. When he regained consciousness, he took a long drink of the moonshine. It helped a little too dull the pain but not enough. His face was still throbbing and each breath difficult. He crawled through the rows of corn, a specific destination in mind.

Almost at the end of the field, Ed came to a place where the soil had been disturbed. He started digging with his hands, making his middle ache with pain. Yet, he knew it would be worth it. A small box was uncovered and he pulled out a leather pouch of white powder. Taking a pinch of it, he snorted it right up his nose. His body relaxed and he snorted a little more up the other nostril. The pain was ebbing.

He'd become addicted to opium when a Chinaman from San Francisco had come through Quarry selling his snake oil products that could cure any ill. Once Ed had tried it, he was hooked. Since then, he'd sunk a lot of the money from the farm into opium powder to feed that addiction.

He knew Merle and Carol were suspicious of his jaunts out into the fields without him accomplishing anything but he could care less about what either of them thought. The redneck was gone now that he's fired his ass and he had plans for his wife and daughter that would get them out of his way. He just had to do it in such a way that would keep the law and the other townsfolk out of his business. He didn't want anyone asking questions.

He snorted some more and his perceptions swirled as the drug stimulated his brain. Lying down on the ground, he passed out for a while longer.

A sound nearby, just at the far edge of the field, woke him up. He sat up and looked through the corn. A woman was slowly walking by, unaware of him. In his drug-addled vision, she was beautiful. He could see that she was an Indian woman with long black hair tied up and flowing down her back. Her body was shapely and her skin shining in the moonlight. To him, she seemed to be a gift given to him by God.

He wanted her. Damn it, he was going to have her. He was already going to get rid of Carol and the bitch child. Not that he'd let them leave him. Oh no, nobody leaves Ed Peletier. There was already a spot in the back corner of the basement ready for the two bodies. This run-in seemed to be her perfect replacement. His own Indian Princess.

He made a whistling sound and she stopped, slowly turning in his direction. He could see a wound on her leg, probably the reason she was moving so slowly. She began heading in his direction and he could see that she was smiling. She wanted to be with him.

Just for good measure, he snorted a little more opium and then stood up. The pain in his face and ribs was gone. He moved on his own unsteady legs towards her, the drugs affecting his entire system. When she reached him, he embraced her. Her mouth tilted up towards his for a kiss.

At first he was elated. An Indian squaw that had come right out of the countryside and into his arms. Then the pain returned, now focused right on his lips. It was more than even the opium could suppress. His Indian princess moved her head back from him and the pain became excruciating. It was so bad that his eyes cleared and he saw the truth of the woman he held in his arms.

Her eyes were milky blue and stared at him almost unseeing. Her skin seemed to shiny because it was grey, reflecting the moonlight. No longer did it have the tanned, reddish hue of healthy Indian skin. Her teeth seemed too big for her mouth and she had black gore all over her face. She was chewing something.

With absolute terror and pain, he realized that she was chewing on the remnants of his lips. He tried to push her away, to run back through the field but her hands seemed like claws. They clutched at him, pinning him against her. She growled as a piece of his lip fell out of her mouth and she opened her bloody jaws wide.

He screamed with all his might as she ripped into his throat. The sound changed into a burbling noise as his trachea opened in a gush of blood. He collapsed to his knees, his body wracked with pain as he felt his lungs gasping for air. None could be had as it all whooshed out the hole in his neck. He felt her bite him again, this time pulling off his ear. He could no longer scream but the pain kept coming.

It took several minutes for his brain to finally die of oxygen deprivation. During that entire time, he felt every bite and scratch from the dead Indian woman. Some people might call it karma.


	22. Chapter 22

Glad everyone enjoyed the slaying of Ed! He earned that gruesome death.

I do not own The Walking Dead or The Twilight Zone but I love those who do.

**Chapter 22**

Daryl came home from his early morning hunt and laid three rabbits and a squirrel on the wood block behind his house. He went the covered barrel of rain water they collected because they did not have a pump on their property. It felt good splashing some of it over his face and neck, removing a layer of sweat he'd built up out in the forest.

He startled a little when the back door flew open and Merle stepped out into the sun, smiling.

"Shit, Merle! What the fuck you still doin' home? Ya should be at the farm by now," Daryl spat at his brother, annoyed that he was blowing off work.

"Oh yeah, I got fired," Merle told him, the smile still on his face.

Daryl spit on the ground. "God damn it! Why didn't you tell me that when I saw you last night?" he yelled at his smirking brother.

"Last night I was quite enjoyin' myself with some homemade hooch and I didn't want you ruinin' my buzz." Merle climbed up on the fence post of Sky's enclosure. The horse slowly walked over, nudging Merle with her nose. He scratched behind her ears roughly, which she relished.

Daryl snorted, getting more annoyed by his brother's apathetic attitude. "What did you do?"

Merle twisted his lips. "Well…" he drew out the word. "Seemed me and Ed had a little disagreement on his parenting techniques."

Daryl gave him a confused look. What the fuck did Merle know about parenting techniques? Then again, he had some strong doubts about Ed's knowledge on the subject as well.

Merle spelled it out for his confused-looking brother. "Son of a bitch started smacking his kid around in front of me. I just couldn't let that go. Gave my resignation with a fist to his face and a boot to his gut." Merle's smile had disappeared. What he didn't tell Daryl was that when he saw Ed pick up Sophia, he was having flashbacks to when his own daddy would beat on his little brother and he was powerless to stop it. Not this time.

Daryl nodded, understanding now. It was how he felt when he'd seen Ed backhand Carol a couple nights ago. Perhaps she would leave now and all his emotional turmoil would end. Just as that thought entered his head, he felt his heart clench, like someone was trying to rip it out. The idea that he would never see her again made him hurt.

Shaking those thoughts away, he glared at Merle. "Since ya seem ta have nothin' ta do at the moment, ya can dress these for dinner," he said, indicating the prey he'd hunted.

"Okey-dokey, boss man," Merle saluted him, making Daryl's annoyance flare again. He gave his brother the finger and then got Sky out to meet up with the Sioux tribesmen.

After picking up the barter items from Dale (all except the moonshine that was provided by him), he rode Sky out into the countryside. It was hotter today than it had been and he felt the sweat coming back to his skin as he traveled under the sun. Luckily, he did not have to travel too far out in the open to get to the usual meeting place.

The Indians were already there, Walking Bird in front. There was only one younger brave behind him. Daryl glanced around for the third but there were only two of them. They slid off their horses when they saw Daryl approaching. He did the same when he reached them.

The men seemed on edge, nervous almost. It reminded him of last year when they had first started meeting but he had slowly gained their trust since then. He wondered if them only sending two was a sign of that trust.

Daryl was about to take the crossbow off his shoulder when Walking Bird shook his head. "Trade."

He was surprised. They always wanted to examine the crossbow before trading. Now it seemed as though they just wanted to get their business over with and get the hell out of there. Daryl pulled the bag of goods off Sky.

Only Walking Bird seemed to be paying attention to him as he removed his own goods to trade. The younger man kept glancing around, sometimes even lifting his body off his horse to get a better view around them. Walking Bird and Daryl quickly examined each other's items and then began packing them up.

A sound close by caught all of their attention. All three horses made little noises of discontent, shifting unhappily on their feet.

"Wendigo!" shouted the young brave on top of his horse. He was pointing towards a rocky outcropping of to their side. They could see a figure shambling towards them. It appeared to be moving as fast as it could, frenzied to reach them. There was a dirty tan-colored cowboy hat on its head, a brown cloth vest on his body and tall leather boots on his feet. What had once been a white bandana around his neck was now stained brownish-red with clotted blood. There weren't any obvious wounds visible to them. As it came closer, they could here quiet hissing sounds emerging from it.

Walking Bird said something to the other man in the Sioux language as he climbed back on his horse. The young man took off, heading in the direction of their village. The walker glared at him, almost as if debating whether to follow the running horse or not. Seeing the other two still in front of it, it continued the same course.

Daryl slung the crossbow off his back and pulled a bolt into it fast. Walking Bird's horse tried to jump away but he held the beast steady, watching Daryl closely. Stepping away from his horse and into the direct line of sight of the oncoming monster, Daryl aimed carefully and pressed the trigger.

The bolt flew out of the crossbow and across the distance in a blink. It buried itself into the dead flesh just between the creature's eyes. It fell gracelessly to the ground and laid still on its side.

Daryl and Walking Bird looked at each other before Daryl walked slowly towards the prone body. It looked dead, like it had been dead a while, but he was still cautious. Walking Bird slid off his horse and followed behind Daryl. They looked it over carefully, trying not to let the rotten smell bother them. On the back of it were long, bloody scratches that had ripped right through the vest and into the skin underneath.

Walking Bird seemed especially curious about the bolt lodged in the middle of the walker's face. Then he straightened and clamped a hand on Daryl's shoulder. Daryl flinched a little at the physical contact, especially with the adrenaline still coursing through his system.

"You kill Wendigo. Need guidance from spirits now. Come," Walking Bird directed him back to their horses and gestured him to follow. Daryl had never hoped for an invitation back to their settlement but he was excited at the prospect.

As the horses moved together away from Quarry, Daryl glanced back at the dead monster. Flies were already starting to buzz around it.

**XXXXXXXX**

Sheriff Rick walked slowly up the road to the Greene farm. He was not in a rush to be near the dead body of his prisoner, who had essentially died under his watch. Even though Shane was the officer in charge of them at that moment, his incompetence was a direct reflection on Rick as his boss. Tony was most likely going to hang for his crimes anyway but what had happened in that jail cell had been unacceptable. Only Dave knew the truth. He insisted that Tony had a heart attack and then turned into one of those monsters. One of those wendigoes.

Stepping up to the door of the small building that served as Herschel's office, Rick gripped the door knob and took a deep breath. He could already smell the scent of rot before he went inside and he mentally prepared himself for it to get worse. With that, he pushed the door open and stepped inside.

It was worse. Yet, Rick knew he could handle it. Herschel had Tony's body laid out on a cold metal table that he usually used for embalming. Tony had been larger than the average occupant of the table and some of him poked over the edges. The good news was that the bodies of the woman with the bear and the backpacker had already been removed. There had been quite a debate about whether to bury them in the cemetery outside of town or to burn them. Due to the mysterious circumstances of their demise, burning had won out. People were still twitchy in this town about possible communicable diseases ever since they had lost so many to cholera a decade ago.

"Good day, Sheriff," Herschel greeted him.

"Hopefully today stays a better day than yesterday, Doc," Rick said in a tired voice. "What have you found?"

Herschel walked him closer to the corpse and pointed at the swollen, purple neck. "This is not normal, even in death."

Rick pointed at the bolt in the middle of his forehead and the bullet wounds in his ample gut. "These aren't exactly normal in death either, not unless they are the cause of it."

"They weren't. All of those wounds came after death." Rick opened his mouth to speak but Herschel held up a hand to quiet him. "I know. You said he was still moving, trying to attack you through the bars. Based on my examination, he was technically already dead by that point. I don't know why his body was still moving like it was. Same with the woman with the bear. Maybe they are possessed by demons." Herschel said the last part as if he were a defeated man. He could not find any good reason to explain what had happened.

"So it was a heart attack that killed him," Rick concluded.

"No, he was strangled to death. Hence the swollen and bruised neck."

Rick processed this information, coming to the logical conclusion. "Dave killed him." Herschel nodded, agreeing with him. "He's a dangerous man. We're going to have to hang him." Herschel nodded again.


	23. Chapter 23

Thank you all so much for your lovely comments. I don't say that enough. You are a driving force for me and I love all of you! Every time I get a comment or notification of someone following/favoriting me or the story, I just feel amazing. You all rock!

I do not own The Walking Dead or The Twilight Zone but I love those who do.

**Chapter 23**

Carol snapped awake, sitting straight upright in bed. Her heart was pounding and her breathing rapid. She was confused for a moment, looking around her empty bedroom. The sun was streaming in through the window, indicating morning had come a while ago.

She couldn't believe it was morning and that she had slept peacefully through the night. She'd tried to stay awake as late as she possibly could, expecting Ed to come rampaging through the house any time. When Merle had told her about what happened between Ed and Sophia, she feared greatly that Ed would seek retribution against their daughter. She planned to get in the middle of that, divert his attention to her. It had always worked in the past. Yet, she was alone. He had not come home last night.

Even with the thought of Ed's temper, Carol could not leave yet. She wasn't ready. They had no supplies, nothing was packed and she just couldn't leave without saying good-bye to Andrea. No, they would leave tonight, even if she had to knock Ed out to do it.

Carol found Sophia already awake, sitting at the kitchen table eating a muffin. The girl had her Jules Vern book open and she seemed captivated by the story. She glanced up at her mother and must have sensed her uneasiness.

"Maybe Dad will never come home and we can just stay here," Sophia offered.

Carol signed. _If only…_

Sophia, seeming to sense her mother's sad mood, tried to reassure her. "Of course, if we do leave, we'd be going on a great adventure! Just like in my book here. It'll be just us and we'll get to see the world." Her voice was excited about the prospect.

Carol smiled, knowing it was going to be a difficult journey for them out on the road but she did not want to discourage Sophia. "Yes, we'll have a wonderful adventure, baby. Now we need to go into town and get supplies."

"Can I go over Carl's house? I want to say good-bye to him."

Carol frowned. "I don't think that is a good idea. I don't want anyone to know we are leaving yet."

Sophia crossed her arms over her chest in an unhappy gesture. "But I have to say good-bye to Carl! He's my best friend. Andrea is your best friend and I know your going to tell her. It's only fair."

Carol didn't answer because they both knew it was true.

"Okay," Carol relented. "But you must swear him to secrecy until after we are gone. He's not even allowed to tell his parents. If your father finds out too soon, he'll come after us," Carol warned her.

Sophia shook her head solemnly. She understood what it would mean if Ed caught them running away. "Carl can keep a secret."

Carol gave her a tight-lipped little grin, trying to suppress tears. She felt so bad having to rip Sophia away from her whole life. "I'll tell you what. Why don't you go pull out a few of the things you definitely want to take with you and put them on your bed. Then you can spend the whole day with Carl. I'll pick you up when it is time for us to leave. Okay?"

"Yes!" cried the girl, rushing upstairs to comply.

After getting both of them ready, Carol dropped Sophia off at the Grimes house. Rick was already gone for the day but Lori was happy to watch Sophia. Carol made her way over to the General Store. Dale greeted her warmly and she bought numerous supplies for the road. Giving him as much money as she possibly could, she still felt bad about leaving him with a debt that she knew Ed would never pay him.

Taking her purchases in a large burlap sack, she crossed the street over to the saloon and went upstairs to Andrea and Amy's apartment after a quick hello to T-Dog at the bar. Andrea greeted her with a huge smile and drew her inside by the wrist.

"Come see!" she sounded like a gleeful child as they made their way to Amy's bedroom. Amy was sitting up, spooning plain chicken broth into her mouth.

"Last night she decided she was hungry. Doc Greene said she could eat a little chicken broth. If she kept it down, it probably meant she was in the clear. She's kept it down all night!" Andrea cried excitedly.

Amy gave Carol a lopsided smile. "Told you all I was going to be fine," she said in a voice that sounded bored but her eyes reveled that she really was relieved to be feeling better.

Carol stepped over the young woman's bed and kissed her on the forehead. Again, she had tears in her eyes and she had a feeling they would keep threatening her for a while to come. "I am so glad. You are so strong, Amy. You can beat anything in this world," Carol told her.

For a second, it looked like Amy was going to make one of her glib comments but then she stopped and really looked at Carol. "Thank you," she said instead, a touch of pure emotion in her tone.

Wiping away a stray tear, Carol glanced around the room, missing someone. "Where's Milton?"

"Writing one of his articles. He has been so sweet, spending all his time helping me up here or T-Dog downstairs. Now that everything has settled down, he is catching up on his own work," Andrea told her.

"Don't worry, sis. He'll be back making lovey-dovey eyes at you in no time," Amy teased her.

Andrea just shook her head, not giving in to her sister.

"Can I talk to you?" Carol asked Andrea quietly. Andrea observed the serious look on her best friend's face and, taking her by the elbow, guided her out of the room.

"You're leaving, aren't you?" Andrea questioned her.

"Tonight."

"Is this because of what happened with Daryl Dixon? Because I think Milton might be right. He may have real feelings for you and just doesn't know how to own up to them," Andre pointed out.

"No, this has nothing to do with Daryl Dixon. Ed hurt Sophia last night," Carol said.

Andrea gasped. "Oh no! That bastard! How dare he touch her?"

"That's why I have to leave. I have to protect her."

Andrea nodded, understanding the truth of it. She started getting tears in her eyes too. Pulling Carol into a tight hug, she whispered, "What am I going to do without you?"

Carol hugged her back. "You're going to have Amy nagging you instead." She stepped back out of Andrea's arms. "I need you to do something for me."

"Anything."

"Ed never came home last night. If I'm not at home, he's going to come looking for me here. Can you tell him I'm helping you with Amy and that you'll send me home when I'm done? It should put him off for at least a day. That will give me a good start on the road."

"Yes, I bet I can keep him distracted with beer and food for days," she laughed through her tears. "Wait here, I have something for you," Andrea slipped into her bedroom and came back a minute later. She pressed a wad of bills into Carol's hand.

"No, I can't take this from you," Carol said, trying to push them back at Andrea.

"Yes, you can. It's not that much and it won't leave me destitute, I promise. I also want you to take this." Andrea held up a silver necklace with a small heart charm.

"Didn't your mom give you that before she died? You can't give that to me."

"My mom gave it to me as a reminder of her and I am giving it to you as a reminder of me. It will bring you luck when you are out there on the road." Andrea reach around, snapping it on Carol's neck.

Carol started to cry full out and wrapped her arms around her friend. "I would never forget you in a million years."

Unexpectedly, there was the sound of loud shouting outside. The women pulled away from each other and went to the window. Down below, they could see several people shouting at each other. Unfortunately, the glass was a little warped so it was difficult to make out who everyone was.

"Sounds like a brawl brewing in the street!" Amy shouted in the other room.

"Don't you move!" Andrea yelled back at her and then she and Carol ran downstairs to investigate.


	24. Chapter 24

Sorry about that cliffhanger last chapter but you know it really adds to the dramatic effect. You're all going to be mad at me because I am not going to resolve it in this chapter either. Don't hate me! I hope that you are all going to really like this chapter and forgive me for that.

Please note that I have done some research on vision quests and have taken some artistic license with it. I needed it to fit into a specific time frame. Let me know if you want to discuss it in actuality.

I do not own The Walking Dead or The Twilight Zone but I love those who do.

**Chapter 24**

The Sioux tribal village was about ten miles away from Quarry. There were no direct roads leading to it so they had to travel over the countryside. Daryl knew for a fact that nobody else from Quarry had ever been to the village and he wasn't completely sure if any white man ever had either. Knowing how badly the native tribes had been treated back east by the white settlers had made all the Indians fearful of them. He felt both humbled and excited by this idea of being the first to be invited in.

As Sky followed Walking Bird's horse, the first thing that came into view was smoke drifting up into the air. As they got closer, he could see conical structures made with wooden poles and draped in animal skins. He knew about teepees but had never seen one in person. Some of them had interesting designs and stylized animal drawings in colored inks along the sides.

The younger brave that had escaped before them from the wendigo must have alerted the tribe about the incident. There was already a large gathering at the edge of the village, mostly composed of men. Daryl could see women and children hanging back behind them. Several women were restraining their rambunctious children, who were trying to get to the front of the crowd to get a better look at him. He suddenly felt very self-conscious, realizing that all eyes were on him. Some of the brave's eyes seemed hostile but most of them just appeared curious.

Daryl saw the crowd part and an older man was ushered to the front. Judging from the deference showed to this man, Daryl concluded that he was the chief of this Sioux tribe. The man had skin red and rough as leather with deep wrinkles. His long hair was still jet black except for a small amount of grey encroaching along the temples. There was a large head dress of feathers covering his scalp and flowing down his back. It was much more elaborate than any other head piece he'd ever seen before. The chief's manner was calm but cautious as he watched them approaching.

Walking Bird slid off his horse and Daryl did the same.

"Chief Flying Eagle," he indicated the older man. "No fear but quiet." Daryl nodded, understanding his meaning. He was good at keeping quiet.

Walking Bird presented himself to his chief, raising his open palm flat and up in front of him. Flying Eagle nodded deeply, acknowledging Walking Bird with respect and also indicating he should explain himself. Daryl could here their words perfectly but could only guess what they were saying. He knew they were talking about him when Walking Bird pointed at him and all eyes once again shifted to his position. It made him squirm a little.

Walking Bird must have said something surprising because Daryl noted several people gasp. Others were shaking their heads negatively. The Chief frowned and he could hear a question in his tone before Walking Bird continued. His argument must have been a good one because some people began nodding and there were less angry looks in his direction.

Then Flying Eagle nodded deeply once more. His eyes came up and met Daryl's steadily. They were a chocolate brown color with no signs of weakness in them. Walking Bird motioned Daryl forward and he complied, stepping up to meet the Chief of the Sioux tribe.

"Name," Walking Bird said.

"Daryl Dixon, sir," he stated nervously. He had the impression that this was a great honor and he didn't want to screw anything up.

The Chief seemed to examine him and he struggled not to fidget under the scrutiny. Finally, his gaze landed on the strap running over his shoulder and across his chest. Flying Eagle pointed at it and said a few words to Walking Bird.

"Crossbow," Walking Bird said, essentially to both men. He was naming the item to the Chief while at the same time indicating that Daryl should present this unique weapon for him to see. Daryl quickly slung the crossbow off his back and the two men became engrossed in a conversation about it while he held it up for them.

Seemingly satisfied, the Chief nodded appreciatively to Daryl, who slung the weapon back over his shoulder. The Chief looked at him one more time then placed his hand on Daryl's arm and softly spoke. Then he turned abruptly and the crowd enveloped him once again.

Walking Bird smiled at him then said, "Spirit walk, Daryl Dixon." He put a hand on Daryl's back and guided him forward. He was in such a strange place with all of this that he didn't even flinch. The people parted as he was walked towards the teepees. Little children ran up to peer closely at him but then would run away shyly when he looked back at them.

They came to a teepee that had the most elaborate designs over it. Red and blue swirls around brown buffaloes and leaping deer. All around the bottom were black stick figures that appeared to be dancing around the structure. Before they went inside, Daryl stopped him.

"What is a Spirit Walk?" he questioned Walking Bird.

The man took a moment coming up with a response, trying to find the right words in the foreign tongue. Then he said, "Answers." Daryl did not really know what that meant but accepted it and entered the teepee.

It was hot inside. There was a fire burning in the center, the smoke being drawn out an air hole at the top, but the heat remained within. Sweat instantly drenched his body. A very old man with long, straggly grey hair sat off to the side. He was rhythmically beating a drum. The sound filled Daryl's ears. He wasn't sure how the man looked so cool in this oppressive heat.

Walking Bird entered behind him and gestured for him to sit on the rugs on the floor across from the drum-beating man. Then he poured greenish liquid into two cups. Handing one to Daryl, he kept the other for himself and sat down equidistant from him and the elderly man. He drank deeply from the cup and then told Daryl, "Drink."

Daryl took a tentative sip. The liquid was cool, which made him take a bigger drink. Unfortunately, it was bitter and made him choke a little at the flavor. Walking Bird chuckled a little at Daryl's discomfort and Daryl threw him a disgusted look.

Walking Bird finished his cup and then advised Daryl to finish his. "Drink," he said forcefully. Daryl downed the contents in one large gulp, which made him cough heavily.

After he recovered, he saw that Walking Bird had crossed his legs and closed his eyes. The man appeared relaxed, like in a meditative state. Daryl figured he would follow suit. He closed his eyes and listened to the pounding of the drum.

For a few minutes, he coaxed his normally tense body into relaxing. He wondered if the spirits really talked to people when they did this. Did he even believe in spirits? He wasn't sure.

His head started to feel strange, almost dizzy even though he wasn't standing up. He opened his eyes and he was still in the teepee but he was alone. Strangely, the beat of the drum still sounded clearly in his ears but the old man was gone, along with Walking Bird. Daryl tried to move his hand but he was so sluggish. He wasn't alarmed though, which he found weird in itself. He felt more relaxed.

Laughter floated through the air. It got louder and he spied a figure no far away from him. It was very hazy at first but then became more defined as he watched. It was Merle! He seemed to solidify, still laughing. It was a pleasant laugh, like they were joking around with each other. Daryl smiled, still feeling strange.

"Merle, whatcha doin' here?" Daryl asked and he noticed that his words were slightly slurred. Merle just continued laughing and Daryl chuckled a little with him. Then the laughter got quieter and Merle faded out of view. Daryl closed his eyes again and relaxed for a while as the drum beat on.

A loud crash sounded behind him. He leapt up and saw that he was no longer in the teepee. Yet, he could still hear the drum pounding all around. He looked around, seeing that he was in a large room, two floors high. The walls were solid and grey with cloudy windows letting in hazy light. On the other side of the room were barred jail cells, most of them in disarray. A metal staircase in front of him led up to the cells above. A door behind him was also barred. There was no one there and he wondered where the crashing sound came from. The whole place felt creepy to him.

He whirled around as something brushed against his back. A wendigo stood at the barred door, its rotting arm coming through trying to grab him. He jumped back. It was a woman and she had on odd clothing. She wore pants of a very dark blue color and her shirt was very tight. Unfortunately, there was a gaping hole in her neck. She tried to get through the bars at him and he stepped back another step.

Another wendigo rushed up to the door at him, bouncing off the bars. This one was a tall, lanky man dressed in a light blue jumpsuit. Another one joined them and then another and another, all crowding in on each other trying to get at him. Daryl saw the door wobble and feared it was going to be pushed right out of the wall.

He spotted another door at the other end of the room, also barred. Walking over, he found it was unlocked. A crash behind him indicated the first door had given way and he ran blindly through this door without another thought. He could hear them coming after him.

The maze seemed endless and sometimes it was pitch black. He had to feel along as he went. Fear gnawed at him but it was weird that he wasn't really panicking. The growling, shuffling noises continued to pursue him. All the while, the drum beat around him.

His foot caught on a piece of floor that was jutting up and with a strangled cry, he fell. He brought his arms up to shield his face from the hard concrete ground. Yet, he didn't hit anything. He just kept falling, on and on in the darkness.

The falling began to feel like floating and he opened his eyes. He wasn't even really sure when he had closed them. Now he was in a large body of water, like a lake. It wasn't moving like a river or the ocean but it was large enough that he could not see the shore in any direction he looked. The water was warm and seemed to be buoying him up, letting him hardly exert any energy to stay floating. It was nice and he swam around a little, noticing that he was naked. This disturbed him at first but he was still feeling relaxed overall and decided to just enjoy it.

"Daryl," he heard her voice softly behind him. He knew it was Carol, just from the way she said his name. He tried to jerk away from her, not wanting her to see him so exposed. Her hands clasped onto his shoulder, keeping him in place. Her mouth was right by his ear as she whispered reassuringly. "Shh, just relax."

Amazingly, he listened to her. He felt some of the tension leaving him. Her hands were still on his shoulders and he felt them beginning to move against his skin. She was massaging him, her fingers kneading into his muscles. It felt good; he'd never had a massage before. Her hands worked across his shoulders, moving inwards. Then her thumbs rubbed against his neck, swirling in little circles against his back bone.

He moaned reflexively and could feel heat growing in his lower belly. Suddenly he realized with horror that he was becoming aroused. Again, he tried to wrench himself away from her, afraid of her reaction to his growing condition.

She refused to let go, her arms coming over his shoulders as she clung to him. He could feel her naked body pressing against his back and it made him harder. At that, he grabbed her hands around his chest and tried to pry them off him. He was both frightened and excited by what was happening. He didn't understand.

"Daryl, it's okay. Please let me in," she whispered in his ear. Her voice was so calming and he stopped resisting her. Her warm breath in his ear turned him on even more. Her hands started to caress his chest. He felt her lips go to his neck, kissing the sensitive skin gently. He reveled in the sensations of it. Never had he been this intimate with a woman and he had forgotten where he really was. He closed his eyes, moaning again.

"Daryl?" she asked, getting his attention.

"Mmm…?" He didn't want to move. He just wanted her to keep touching him.

"You know I'm going to leave," she said, more serious than before.

His eyes flew open at her statement. "What?"

"I'm going to leave Quarry. I can't stay there, not with Ed hurting us. It's going to happen soon," she explained.

"No." This time when he tried to twist around, she let him. Even in the wavering water, he could see how beautiful she was. He reached out and cupped her cheek. He felt the whirlwind of emotions inside him still, become peaceful. A realization dawned on him just then. He understood everything. She couldn't leave Quarry. She was meant to be with him. "You can't leave. I can protect you," she told him.

"Then you've got to find me before I leave," she told him.

He reached for her, needing her to be in his arms but she faded away from him. The lake faded in darkness and he slipped into unconsciousness.

It could have been minutes or hours that passed when he finally woke up. He sensed that he was outside. The oppressive heat of the teepee was gone and he could not hear the drum beating. There was a cool, wet cloth over his eyes and he felt somewhat disoriented.

A giggle came from next to him.

"Carol?" he croaked out, his throat feeling raw. The giggle came again. It wasn't Carol.

He pulled off the cloth and sat up. A young Indian squaw smiled shyly at him.

"Um, thanks," he said awkwardly as he handed her the cloth. Then he scrambled to his feet and ran shakily to find Sky. He had to get back to Quarry before she left.


	25. Chapter 25

Sorry about the delay. I tried posting this last night but the site just would not let me. Anyone else have that problem? Good job to all those who recognized the prison we all know and love from the show in Daryl's vision!

Have I thanked HGRHfan35 and Haitus80 lately for beta-ing this story? Love you girls!

I do not own The Walking Dead or The Twilight Zone but I love those who do.

**Chapter 25**

Shane sat at the desk in the sheriff's station, idly doodling out random designs on the back of an incident report form. He was supposed to be reorganizing all the paperwork into folders in the file cabinet but he didn't feel like doing it. It was just useless busywork to him. Rick had barely spoken to him since yesterday when he'd walked in on the mess that had been Tony.

Dave sat on the bunk in his cage, his shoes making the already grimy mattress worse. His back was pressed against the wall and he was drumming his fingers repetitively on his knee. The expression of bored cockiness was back now that Tony was gone. Shane was tired of looking at him.

Shane was still having a hard time accepting this living dead thing. There had to be a more logical explanation than some bullshit demon possessing dead people. Maybe it was Rabies. He'd heard stories about rabid animals back east. Even the sweetest dog can become vicious with that disease, foaming at the mouth and desperately trying to bite anyone that comes near it. They were not really dead though.

It was true that he had not seen one of them actually rise up from the dead and come after him. He did not give any credence to what that hillbilly Merle Dixon said, even if one of the kids with him was the sheriff's boy. Hell, Rick hadn't seen it happen either. Tony had already been like that when he'd gotten back. He didn't give a crap what Dave said about him having a heart attack because that man was a fucking liar. Sent him out on a god damn wild goose chase looking for that kidnapped boy.

He couldn't believe Daryl-fucking-Dixon found that kid! He'd spent hours tramping around the woods and fields on the complete wrong side of town. Once he'd even tripped and fallen into a thorn bush, scratching himself up and getting his shirt dirty. After several hours, he gave up, saying good riddance to the kid. All that only to find him safe and sound back at the station!

The anger was starting to brew again and he wanted to punch the wall. No, he wanted to punch Daryl Dixon's ugly face. He didn't care that Dixon was an excellent tracker and knew the woods like the back of his hand. The man was a filthy redneck and was nothing in this town compared to him. Nothing!

It didn't help that while he had been cleaning up the mess that had been Tony, he could hear Rick talking to Dixon. The sheriff had been asking him to set Randall up with food and a room over at the boarding house above the saloon. It was the kind of job that would have been appropriate for him as the deputy to handle. The thought of Dixon being given that responsibility over him made his hackles rise. Plus, Rick was now giving him the cold shoulder. His only words this morning had been ordering Shane not to move from this office until he gets back.

The door opened and he felt instantly better seeing the beautiful Lori Grimes walk in. Her long, dark hair has been half pulled up, leaving the rest of it to cascade down her back. She wore a silky, sky blue dress that was tasteful and yet hugged her a little tighter at her curves than the average woman's dress. She smiled sweetly when she saw him.

Carl came barreling around his mother, shirting out of her reach before she could grab him. He ran right up to the desk but his eyes weren't on Shane. They were focused squarely on Dave behind the bars. "Is that the prisoner?" asked Carl excitedly.

Shane ruffled his hair, loving Carl's enthusiasm. "Yep, it is. He's a real bad guy." Shane took a quick look at Dave, noting the man's attention was focused squarely on Lori. He didn't like that.

"You gonna hang him?" Carl questioned.

"Yep," Shane said definitively.

Lori came forward and grabbed Carl's arm, practically dragging him behind her. The smile was gone from her face. "Don't tell him things like that. He's just a boy."

Carl twirled around behind Lori and that was when Shane noticed Sophia Peletier in the doorway. She was a shy girl, hardly ever saying a word to him. He was sure it had something to do with her shitty father because Shane always found her mother quite pleasant. Carl was whispering in her ear but she was shaking her head. Her eyes glanced at the bars across the room and her eyes looked worried.

"Do you know where my husband is?" Lori asked him, bringing his focus back to her.

"He took the hostage kid out to the campsite. Collecting evidence about what else they might have been doing," Shane explained, a little annoyed to have to talk about Rick.

"Okay, thanks. It's not really important," she said as she began guiding the children outside. "Come on, you two. We've got to get some things at the store."

The door closed and the room was silent once again. Shane's feelings were mixed about that encounter but now he just felt lonely with only a murder across the room. He slumped back into the desk chair.

"She's pretty," came a cool voice from behind the bars. Shane flicked his gaze over the convict. An ugly grin had come to the man's lips. "She's just pretty enough to eat. I'd like to take a bite out of her."

"Shut up!"

"I think I'll save her for last. Yes, once I'm done killing everyone in this god-forsaken town, I'm going to take my time with that one," Dave mused.

Shane stood up at the desk, that same rage now finding a new target. "You better shut your mouth about her," he growled through clenched teeth.

Dave continued on, completely unconcerned about Shane's warning. "Gonna have to tie her down because she looks like she might be a wild filly. Then I'll have to shove something in her pretty little mouth because I don't like 'em talking. Then I'm gone just rip that dress right-"

He stopped only when Shane slammed his gun against the bars, creating a loud clanging noise. Shane's face was grim and red with barely suppressed anger. "Not one more word."

"Then I'm gonna ride her till she's broken."

The gun shot was deafening as it bounced off the walls but Dave's scream of pain was just as loud. He clutched at his thigh, which had a bleeding hole through it now. The cocky grin had been wiped off his face.

"You think you can come into my town and threaten my people like that!" Shane yelled as he went to the far side of the room and unwound a long piece of rope from a hook on the wall. "Well, I'll tell you, this town is in need of a hanging. I don't give a shit how much evidence Sheriff Rick thinks he needs before you swing because it's happening right now. I'm the man who's going to get done what needs to be done." Shane carefully tied the rope into a noose. He unlocked the cell and swung the door open wide. "Get up!"

"I can't! You shot me in the leg!" Dave cried, holding his ruined thigh.

"You'd better get up or I'm going to shot you in the head instead," Shane thrust the gun forward, aimed at the center of Dave's forehead.

A cold look came to Dave's face despite the pain of the bullet wound. Using the edge of the bunk as leverage, he was able to get to his feet. Putting most of his weight on the undamaged leg, he hobbled forward out of the cell. Shane was behind him, the gun in one hand squarely pointed at Dave and the rope noose in the other.

Shane gently tapped the gun into Dave's back, urging him forward. "Outside."

Dave was slow moving with only one good leg but Shane followed behind him. Once out the door, he directed Dave left. They were headed to the gallows at the edge of town. It hadn't been used in over a decade but the sheriff who had founded a town insisted it remain standing as a reminder for any lawbreaker that consequences may be harsh in the town of Quarry. When the first murder of the backpacker had occurred, Shane had specifically went to inspect the gallows to make sure the trapdoor was still in working order. It was somewhat weathered but would function as needed.

"Shane! What are you doing?" Lori screamed from the walkway in front of the General Store. The two children stared wide-eyed at him. "Does Rick know about this?"

"Get back in the store, Lori!" he commanded.

By then, Dale and Glenn had come to the doorway to see what the yelling was about. Maggie Greene was behind them, having come to the store on the pretense for supplies but she was really there for Glenn. Lori shoved the children back inside and ordered them not to come out. Both of them nodded, afraid of this unknown situation.

"Shane, are you hanging that man? Where's the Sheriff? He was supposed to make a formal announcement about this matter to the entire town," Dale said loudly, trying to understand what was going on.

"Rick, doesn't have the balls to do this kind of work. I'm the one who is taking care of business!" Shane yelled back at him.

Across the street at the saloon, the swinging doors parted as Andrea and T-Dog emerged. T-Dog gripped the trusty shot gun in his hands. Behind them came out Axel, Oscar and Martinez, who had just started a game of cards inside and had heard the ruckus.

"What's going on?" Andrea asked, stepping out on the dirt road.

"I'm getting rid of this scumbag," Shane informed her.

"Yes," Andrea nodded. "He needs to pay for what he did to my sister and everyone else that he's hurt." T-Dog nodded and they both began to follow behind Shane.

Dale looked worried. "Andrea, I agree that this man is dangerous and needs to be dealt with accordingly but I think the Sheriff needs to make that decision. We shouldn't let this turn into a lynch mob."

"I think it's too late for that, Dale," Andrea told him.

"Shane, please wait for Rick before you do this! You know he's already angry. He just needs to do things by the book and it will get done. Don't throw away your friendship with him over this. Please!" Lori pleaded with him, falling into step with the rest of the townspeople walking towards the gallows.

Merle and Karen, the farrier's daughter, came down the road from the direction of the Greene farm. Seeing the crowd moving along the main street, they sped up a little and joined in. The mood obviously had emotions running high.

"Ho boy! We ready to hang this asshole?" Merle hooted loudly at no one in particular. He was being drawn into the atmosphere of the whole affair. Karen went along too but remained silent.

They reached the old gallows and Shane pushed Dave towards the stairs. With his shot leg, he couldn't climb up. He sat heavily upon the middle step and chuckled. "Oops, found a little loophole in your plan," he taunted Shane.

Shane's fist lashed out, catching him right along the jaw. Dave bit his tongue as his teeth snapped shut. He chuckled some more as he spit out red blood. Despite his attitude, his face was pale and sweaty, a red mark welling up where Shane had connected.

T-Dog and Merle both stepped forward and each grabbed one of Dave's arms.

"This is for Amy, you murdering piece of shit," T-Dog said as he and Merle dragged him up the rickety contraption. They held him tightly as Shane secured the rope around his neck and then tied it to the wooden bracket above.

"This isn't right. Not this way," Dale tried again but they could hear the defeat in his voice.

"Shane, I promise he's going to hang. Please just wait for Rick!" Lori also tried again, her voice getting more desperate.

Shane would not even look at her. His hand was posed on the trap door lever, hesitating. His eyes swept over the crowd gathered at the gallows, watching his every move. It felt right, him having all of them looking up at him. This was where he belonged, in charge of things. In the back of his mind, he knew that he could possibly lose it all because of his actions. Rick would be within his right to fire him. Yet, at that moment, he didn't care.

Dave laughed loudly, a chilling evil sound. Blood was still steadily dripping from his wounded leg. "Hope I see you all in hell. Fuck this town."

With that, Shane pulled down the lever and the trap door under Dave's feet opened. It seemed like he floated in the air for a moment before gravity took over and he fell. Before he hit the ground, the rope snapped taught and everyone heard the sickening crack of Dave's neck breaking. He hung quietly about 2 feet off the ground, his body swaying lightly back and forth.


	26. Chapter 26

So my boss had to have emergency gall bladder surgery. No idea when she's coming back to work. That means lots of extra hours for me. Wheee! Ugh… I apologize in advance if things come slower than I want.

I do not own The Walking Dead or The Twilight Zone but I love those who do.

**Chapter 26**

Sophia browsed through the rack of paperback books in the General Store. There was not much of a selection. Most of the people in this little town did not read books but she knew Dale loved them. Hence, he always kept some available for purchase in the hopes that it would encourage someone to read.

She'd been really surprised at how much she loved reading the Jules Vern book. Even though it had been a purchase of distraction, it seemed to have opened up a whole new world of reading. It was like she didn't want to put it down. The wonderful adventure story gave her hope that maybe it would not be so bad on the road when they left Quarry. She also knew she was going to finish it very soon and was hoping to find another book to take with her.

"I can't see anything," whined Carl, his face pressed up against the front window. The crowd outside had moved out of view up the road about a minute earlier, leaving the two children alone in the store.

Sophia ignored him, picking up one of the books. Les Miserables. It had a sad, dirty little girl on the cover but was exceptionally thick. Might be too hard to carry. She put it back on the rack. Another book caught her eye, Alice in Wonderland. There was a picture of a blonde girl on the cover with a giant rabbit dressed nicely with a top hat. Perfect.

"They're hanging that guy and we're missing it!" Carl complained loudly to the empty store.

Sophia didn't answer him. After the incident with the dead woman eating the bear, she had enough with death for a while.

"I'm going to see if I can make out anything from the back door," Carl said, heading away from the front windows.

"Wait, Carl! Your mom said not to leave the store!" Sophia reminded him as she followed.

"I'm not going to leave the store. I'm just going to take a peek out the back door," Carl reassured her. He weaved around the counter and through the storage room at the back of the store. Sophia nervously trailed him. Carl gripped the door knob but it stayed firmly in place, locked.

"There's gotta be keys around here somewhere," Carl said, looking all around.

Sophia spotted them first, hanging on a hook on the wall near the inner doorway. "Got them," she said as she unhooked them and handed them to Carl. Not that she wanted to see the hanging from the back door but she was getting into Carl's little quest.

The door unlocked with a click and Carl swung open the door, putting one foot only out of the store. Sudden movement just outside had him stumbling backwards, crashing into Sophia.

"What happened?" she cried out anxiously.

"There's someone out there!" Carl whispered frantically.

"Who?" Sophia asked.

"I don't know."

Sophia pushed around him when she realized that Carl wasn't going to investigate further. If the situation hadn't been so intense, she might have made a sarcastic comment about rethinking his future career choice as a lawman. Slowly, she stuck out just enough of her head to get a view of the back of the building.

An angry looking woman held a sword threateningly at her. Sophia squeaked and pulled her head back inside.

"We're just children! Please don't hurt us!" Sophia called out the door. Only silence answered her. She stuck her head back out the door again, thinking maybe the woman had left.

No such luck. The woman hadn't moved a muscle. She stood tensely with the sword held out in front of her ready for battle. She was black, her skin dark as night. Long dreadlocks flowed down around her face. Her body was muscular but very thin and Sophia could see scabs from healing wounds on her face and arms. She wore pants, like a man, but her clothes were dirty. Some of the stains even looked like dried blood.

Sophia noticed the trash was open and empty tins littered the ground. The woman must have been scavenging for food. She must have been starving! Sophia made a snap judgment and took a gamble. Raising her hand up in a submissive gesture, she walked out the door.

"What the hell are you doing?" Carl hissed at her but he did not come out the door way.

"Shh, it's okay," she said both to Carl and the woman now in front of her, who was still holding the sword up menacingly. "We're only kids; there's no grown-ups here right now. We can't hurt you. Are you hungry?"

The woman licked her lips, the sword wavering bit.

"Wait," Sophia held up a finger then ran back inside over to the wall where the keys had been. She'd seen a large sack of apples and she grabbed one off the top. Warily, she went back out the door and resumed her position in front of the woman. She offered the large, red apple to her.

The sword lowered but the dark woman's facial expression was clouded. It was obvious she wanted the apple but she didn't trust them, even if they were just children.

"You can take it and leave if you want." Sophia rolled the apple in her hand, stretching her arm further out in front of her.

Something seemed to snap in the black lady. She dropped the sword and grabbed the apple roughly. Her starved state was obvious as she devoured the fruit. Sweet juice ran off her face as she crunched into it, chewing hungrily. In no time, it was down to nothing but a core.

Carl had come to the doorway and was looking out curiously now. "Wow, is that a real sword?" he asked, forgetting his initial fear.

The black woman picked it up off the ground, nodding affirmatively. Then she careful resheathed it in the holder strung across her back.

"I'm Sophia and this is Carl," Sophia offered her. "Do you want another apple?"

The woman nodded and Carl fetched her one this time, coming fully out the door while she ate it. Not as quickly as the first one but certainly not in a leisurely manner.

Sophia frowned. She had learned about the war going on between the states on the other side of the continent. Her mother had taught all her students about the slaves and how the north was trying to set them free. Had this woman been a slave? Had she run away into the territories? Slavery was wrong to her.

The woman looked like she was turning to leave. Sophia stepped towards her, not wanting her to go yet. "Do you need help?" She looked back, her very dark brown eyes studying Sophia. "Maybe Carl and I can help you. Hide you somewhere until you are ready to leave."

Carl was beside her, nodding. He had come to the same conclusion as her that se must have been a runaway slave. "We have an old root cellar that no one goes in since we built a new one. You could rest there and we could bring you food," the boy told her.

Her eyes looked so desperate to trust them. Her large lips folded in as she debated on whether or not to trust these two children who were offering her help. Finally, the weariness and hunger of her long journey decided it for her. She nodded, accepting their offer.

"I'm Michonne."

**XXXXXXXX**

Carol hurried along the road away from the heart of town, opposite the direction everyone else had gone. She had seen from Andrea's apartment window what was happening in the main street. The unfamiliar man must have been the outlaw who'd stabbed Amy. He'd been limping badly on the left leg, blood dripping down into the dirt. Behind him had been Deputy Shane, a gun pointing squarely at the felon's back.

When she'd seen the rope noose in Shane's other hand, she'd known exactly what was happening. A hanging. Sheriff Rick hadn't been anywhere in sight but he could have been in front of them. The window they'd been observing from was facing parallel to the main road so their view had been obstructed.

Shane had been shouting at someone in the direction of the General Store and she had a feeling it was at Dale. That man seemed like the conscience of the whole town and if Shane was doing something wrong, Dale would be the man to confront him about it. Unfortunately, even though the Deputy had been nothing but kind to her, Carol had heard stories lately of him trying to undermine the Sheriff.

Not wanting to be involved in a hanging, even if it was off a disgusting human being who had hurt one of her friends, she had slipped out the back door. Seeing how much of the day had slipped away already, she cringed at the thought of being stuck in Quarry for another night with Ed.

No. That wasn't going to happen. She had already resolved that she would knock him out before she would stay here again. He'd never expect it from her. She never fought back and she hoped that her previous passiveness would benefit her now. As her house came into view, she hoped with all her being that he had not come home yet.

At the front, she slowly pushed the heavy door inward. She winced as it made a loud creaking noise in the silence. Had it always been that loud? Before entering, she listened alertly for any noises that might indicate Ed was in the house.

"Ed?" she whispered, her fear not letting her speak any louder in that moment. No response. She tried again, louder. "Ed?" Still nothing.

Still concerned that he was somewhere in the house waiting to ambush her, she slowly made her way up the stairs. She checked the master bedroom, Sophia's bedroom and the small sewing room but they were all empty. Her spirits started to lift, daring to believe that he had not come home yet. She could potentially get away scot-free!

First she went to Sophia's room. There was a small pile on the bed of her favorite clothes, a book and one stuffed animal. It was a modest pile and Carol silently thanked her daughter for truly understanding what was ahead of them. The young girl seemed to realize that she would not take any more than was absolutely necessary.

Carol picked up the small stuffed rabbit, petting its worn little head affectionately. Okay, this wasn't exactly necessary but it was the first toy she had ever made when Sophia was born. It had been Sophia's best friend when she was tiny, always carrying it around with her. There was no way Sophia would leave it behind and Carol wasn't going to force her.

Once Sophia's things were all packed up and waiting at the top the stairs, she pulled out the small suitcase for her own things. She had actually managed to redo an old pair of Ed's pants to fit her in case they were out in the wilderness. Adding several other essential items, she went to find the most important item for their journey.

She pushed the bed over towards the wall using all her might. To the unseeing eye, the floor looked perfectly normal but she knew where the loose floorboard was. Digging at it with her fingernails, she pried it up. Underneath was a gun, a box of bullets and a small stack of bills. It was all the money she had left after buying supplies today. Although now she also had the money from Andrea, which made her want to weep with appreciation for her friend.

Putting everything back in place, Carol pushed the gun and money into her suitcase and closed it tightly. She sat down on the bed; for just a moment, she told herself and looked out the window at her parent's farm. She was really going to miss this place.

A low scraping noise downstairs caught her attention and she stilled her breathing. If she hadn't been done packing, she never would have heard such a subtle sound. Fear seized her and she knew it must have been Ed coming home. As quiet as she could, she took a few steps to the fireplace and picked up the heavy metal poker. It was true that she could have used her gun if he threatened her but she wanted to save the bullets. She only had the one box. Besides, it would be worse for her if he took the gun out of her hands than the poker.

Another noise sounded in her ears, closer. She thought it was a creak on the stairs. He was coming closer. Silently, she hid against the wall next to the doorway, holding the poker ready. As soon as he came in the room, she was going to smash his head in.


	27. Chapter 27

Sorry about how long this took me. My boss went in for emergency gall bladder surgery and now she'd going to be out for a whole month! Only 5 days in and I am already swamped with work. Someone please shoot me before I become a walker!

Anyway, this is a big-deal chapter and I did not want to rush through writing it. Hope it was worth the wait.

I do not own The Walking Dead or The Twilight Zone but I love those who do.

**Chapter 27**

Daryl leaned against the large oak tree in the front yard of the Peletier farm. He'd been observing the house for a couple minutes but there were no obvious signs of life from the outside. In fact, it seemed like the whole farm was abandoned and he briefly wondered if anyone had fed the animals since Merle was fired. He hoped Ed would at least be responsible enough to handle that task on his own farm. On second thought, he might check on them later if he didn't run into the bastard.

After the Spirit Walk, Daryl had a desperate need to get back to Quarry and he'd climbed on Sky with trembling legs. He'd pushed Sky into a run but it wasn't long before his head had been swimming and his stomach doing flips. He'd almost fallen off her just to empty his stomach contents on the ground. Then he'd passed out for a little while. Judging by the position of the sun in the sky when he'd resumed consciousness, it had not been for very long.

Once he'd gotten home and secured Sky in her enclosure, he had eaten a few hard biscuits. That seemed to have settled his stomach and he felt a lot better. He'd wondered what the hell was in that drink they'd given him. Then he'd headed to the nearby Peletier farm on foot. He did not want to find Ed before he found Carol and it did not seem very covert to come clomping in on his horse.

Taking a deep breath, he decided that it was time to stop hiding behind the tree and find Carol. If she wasn't here, then she might be in town. If she wasn't there either, he had a good feeling that with a little pressure, Andrea would tell him where she was going. He just hoped he could catch her before he had to go chasing her out into the wilderness.

The front door was unlocked and he very slowly stuck his head inside, examining the living room on one side and the dining room on the other. Empty. Peeking into the kitchen, he found that empty as well. Standing still, it felt like the he was alone in the house.

That was until he heard footsteps above him. He glanced up at the ceiling, trying to determine if they were the light steps of Carol or the heavy steps of Ed. Difficult to determine from where he was listening. As silently as he could, he made his way up the stairs. He saw the small suitcase at the top and had hope that maybe she hadn't left yet.

One of them creaked and he almost cursed because all of the sounds from the bedroom ceased. He wanted to whisper Carol's name but there was no way to know if it was her or Ed in there. He eased along the hallway, keeping against the wall, trying to catch a glimpse of whoever was in there. He poked his head into the room.

Sudden movement out of the corner of his eye caused him to pull his body back into the hallway. A heavy object flew down the length of the doorway, just narrowly missing him. He grabbed the object as it was descending, ripping it away from the attacker.

"Oh my god, Daryl!" Carol gasped in shock at seeing him. "I'm so sorry! I thought you were Ed! Did I hit you?" Her hand covered her mouth in worry.

"Nah, ya missed me." He tried to smile reassuringly as he handed her back the fireplace poker. She took it absentmindedly, her eyes never leaving him. It seemed like she still hadn't accepted the idea that it was him and that she'd almost smashed him over the head. "Ya better be careful wit' that thing. Ya could do some real damage wit' it."

That got a little smile out of her. Then her expression changed to one of confusion. "What are you doing here, Daryl?" she asked.

He didn't answer her. Instead, he stepped around her, looking down at the closed suitcase on the bed. "Yer leavin'." It was not a question but a statement.

Carol looked down on the floor, answering him as if he didn't understand what she was doing. "I have to. He's getting worse. I think one day soon he'll kill us if I stay," she said in a quiet voice filled with sadness.

"That ain't gonna happen," he told her firmly and then picked up her suitcase. "Ya both'll come with me. Where's Sophia?"

Carol looked at him like he was crazy. "Wait, why?"

"'Cause I can protect ya," he said, like it was obvious. He started walking out of the room, her suitcase in hand.

She placed her hand softly on his chest as he tried to walk by her, halting his forward progression. Her big, beautiful blue eyes looked up at him. Conflicting emotions played across her face; confusion, fear and hope. "Why?" she whispered, imploring him to tell her why he would do this for her. The last time she'd seen him, he'd fled from her tiny kiss.

He met her eyes and then his gaze flicked down to her lips. She caught it and he saw the beginnings of a blush sweep across her cheeks but her eyes stayed on him. She wanted an answer.

Daryl felt a flutter of uncertainty at this critical moment. The vision he'd had made him so sure that they were meant to be together. Yet, he knew that with the wrong words, he could ruin it all. So being that Daryl was not a man of words, he used his actions to speak for him.

He kissed her. It was a sweet and gentle kiss, conveying his feelings for her but tentative as he was unsure how she would react.

Before she even had a chance to fully process what was going on or to kiss him back, he broke the kiss and stepped away from her. Silence filled the room as his blue eyes met hers. He knew that after the way he had treated her, she had every right to slap him or throw him out of her house. Hell, she had just pecked him on the cheek as a thank you for helping her. Maybe she wasn't even feeling the intense emotions he was. His eyes betrayed his doubts.

The iron fireplace poker slipped out of her hand and landed with a heavy thud on the floor. Neither of them even glanced at it, their eyes holding one another. She blinked and he saw something change in her expression. Almost like she was accepting what he was offering her. Then she moved.

Her body was against his in an instant. Her arms came around his neck, her hands in his hair, pulling his head down. His mouth met hers and this time, the kiss was not gentle. It was fiery and full of passion. He dropped her suitcase back on the bed to free up his hand. His arms wrapped around her waist, his hands on her lower back to hold her tight against him.

The feel of her lips against his was amazing as she moved her mouth. His heart was pounding and he felt like fireworks were exploding in his chest. He felt her tongue run across his lower lip and it made him shiver. Her mouth opened a little and he slipped his tongue in. It scraped seductively against her teeth then her tongue was tangling with his. She tasted so sweet as he explored her mouth.

He pulled his tongue back into his own mouth and then captured her low lip between his, sucking on it gently. This elicited a throaty moan from her and the sound resonated through his body. Leaving her lips, he trailed kisses down her jaw then kissed the sensitive skin on her neck. He remembered how good it felt when the vision of her had been kissing his neck in the lake. A little whimper escaped her lips and it made him smile against her skin to think he was causing that.

His hands started to travel over her hips when he felt her body tense. She pulled away from him. There was a look of panic on her face and he feared she was having doubts what had just happened.

"Oh, I forgot that Ed could come home any second! He'll kill us both if he finds you here. We've got to get out of her!" she said hurriedly, grabbing her suitcase.

He felt relief. If Ed did come before they left, he'd just kick the fucker's ass again. However, he followed behind, picking up Sophia's little suitcase as they went down the stairs.

At the front door, he halted her with a hand on her arm. "If Ed ain't been back since yesterday, ya think he fed your animals?"

Carol frowned. "I doubt it. He doesn't seem to do anything on this farm. I fear for it with both Merle and I gone."

"Ain't this your parents' farm? Why can't ya kick his ass out?" Daryl asked, perfectly willing to assist in said-kicking.

Carol gave him a tight-lipped little smile, her hand rubbing up and down on his arm. "Daryl, you know it doesn't work that way."

"Ain't fair," he grumbled. "This farm is gonna go to shit without ya."

"I know," she said sadly, rubbing his arm some more. It was very distracting and yet very appealing. She continued, "Why don't you wait here and keep watch out for him while I go feed the animals really quick. It's just Bessie the dairy cow and the chickens."

He nodded and she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before heading out the back door. He was glad he didn't feel the urge to flinch away from her this time. His hand went to his cheek, rubbing the spot happily.

**XXXXXXXXX**

Carol was practically skipping around the farm. She felt like she was floating. It was almost unbelievable what had just happened with Daryl. Never in her wildest dreams would she have thought he would come for her like this. Milton had actually been right.

When she'd heard the noises in the house, the only person she thought it could have been was Ed. The second the iron poker was ripped from her hands, she knew she was dead. He would kill her for trying something like that. It was a complete shock when she saw that it was Daryl. Then the kiss. Her lips were still tingling.

She got to the chicken coop and began throwing in large handfuls of feed. In the back of her mind, it registered that the birds did seem kind of agitated. Most likely because they had not been fed all day. A lot of them flapped around the food but some of them were reluctant to leave the hen house. Odd.

Her mind was on the fact that Daryl really wanted her to come away with him. Her and Sophia. How had that happened? Something must have changed because the last time she saw him, he'd acted like her tiny peek had been the kiss of death. Now he was kissing her, not even flinching at her touch. She shook her head, confused but certainly happy. She'd been harboring feelings for him for a while with no hope of reciprocation. Being with him, she could stay in Quarry. It wouldn't be easy because Ed would be a constant threat but they would survive all together.

As she finished up feeding the chickens, she turned toward the dairy barn. That was when she saw movement behind her. Spinning around, she found herself facing her worst nightmare.

She screamed.


	28. Chapter 28

Yep, work is craziness with just me. This week has already included three crying little boys, a double euthanasia, thinking one patient was dead but really wasn't and I'm already completely booked for tomorrow. I write this at the expense of paperwork. Plus, I am doing this large animal handling class all weekend so that is going to severely restrict my writing. Sad…

Sorry about the cliffhanger but you all know you love the dramatic effect!

I do not own The Walking Dead or The Twilight Zone but I love those who do.

**Chapter 28**

Rick finished packing up the outlaws' camp and climbed onto one of their horses. He'd go through everything much more thoroughly once he got back to the station but he couldn't leave evidence just sitting out there for anyone to find. Not only that but someone had to come back for the horses that just got left there. The three horses had been very pleased to see humans again. They had basically finished clearing all the grass they could reach and were straining to get to the fresh blades just out of range. When they'd seen Rick and Randall walking down the road, they were all nickering and neighing to catch their attention.

Randall climbed on the other horse, which was also packed with equipment from the camp. He had a lead rope for the third horse.

"I gotta say that it is way easier to ride a horse when you ain't tied up," he smiled at Rick, gripping the reins in each hand. The two men guided the horses forward to the road back towards town. They rode side-by-side, the third horse trailing behind them. It was an easy gait.

"What're you planning on doing with the horses?" Randall asked.

Rick scratched the back of his neck, adjusting the cowboy hat on his head. "Well, we've got to determine if anyone has any claims on them. We know at least one of them is stolen property from your boss. Even though he has passed away, his family may want the horse back. It might be the same with the other two. If so, they will have to send representatives to claim them."

"And if no one claims them?" questioned Randall.

"Then they will become the property of Quarry. People can put in bids for them. I might do that myself since my horse died last winter and I never got around to replacing him," Rick mused, looking down at the horse he was riding in speculation.

"What're you planning to do with Dave?" Randall's voice was quieter, more serious with this question.

Rick turned his head to examine the young man. He looked nervous after asking the question. Rick did not know all that had happened after the two criminals had kidnapped him but he knew that Randall had witnessed the murder of his boss and the rape of his friend. It was not surprising that Randall would have a vested interest in his tormentor's fate.

"He's going to be hanged," Rick stated.

Randall blew out a heavy breath, like he'd been holding it waiting for Rick's response. It was one of relief. "When?"

"Soon. I'm going to go through all of his stuff and things from the camp and make sure there isn't anything else that needs to be addressed before that. I am still hoping that he will tell us more about his activities the last few years."

Rick veered his horse off the road and motioned for Randall to follow him. "I know a shortcut that will take us right up to the stables behind the sheriff station. Unfortunately, there are only two stalls so I'll have you take the third horse over to the stables behind the saloon after we unload all this stuff. Got it?"

"Yep."

Once they got to the small stable, they hopped off the horses and Rick opened the back door of the station. Together, they unloaded everything into the small back room and Rick secured the two horses.

As Randall started to lead the last horse around the building, Rick called out, "Just tell T-Dog and Amy whose horse that is and I'm sure they'll be perfectly fine with boarding him there. Then come back here."

Randall nodded affirmatively as he went around the corner. Rick walked into the back room and started pulling certain items out of the pile they'd created. He opened the door connecting it to the main room of the station but then spotted something peculiar sticking out of one of the bags.

"Shane! Can you come help me sort through some of this stuff?" he called out through the doorway as he pulled out the offending item. It was a sawed-off shotgun. "Damn," Rick muttered, impressed by the firepower. He'd heard that some of the Confederate cavalry were using them instead of sabers but he'd not seen one before.

Realizing he was still alone, he called out again. "Shane!" He looked in the bag he'd gotten the shotgun from and found a slew of ammunition for it. He had been well-stocked for a battle.

Becoming conscious of the fact that there had been no response from Shane, Rick looked out the doorway. The desk was empty. The place was silent as a tomb except for his own breathing. A sudden sinking feeling made his stomach hurt. He walked out into the main room, hoping very much that his instinct was wrong.

Whirling around, he faced the jail cell. A horrific feeling welled up inside when he saw the open door. The floor was covered with blood and there was a trail of it leading across the room and out the front door. It was still relatively red, fresh. The only consolation was that there was no body, either Shane's or Dave's. Not that there couldn't have been a wendigo-form of one of them walking around causing havoc at the moment.

"Shit!" Rick cursed loudly. The ugly word bounced off the walls and back at him in the quiet room.

The front door flew open, Randall running in. He was panting, like he'd just sprinted from the stables behind the saloon. "Everyone's gone!" he cried. Rick looked up at him grimly. That was when Randall noticed the blood and empty jail cell. "Where is he?" he shrieked, fear plainly evident in his voice. It was the fear of retribution from his former torturer.

"That's what I'm going to find out," Rick told him with resolution but then frowned. "What do you mean 'everyone's gone'?"

"After I put the horse in the stable, I went into the saloon. The place was empty. Not even the bartender was there. There were still full glasses of beer and one table looked like it had had a good card game going. But there wasn't nobody in there," Randall informed him.

"Come on, I've got to find Shane," Rick patted his shoulder as an indication for Randall to follow and they left the station through the front door.

Rick burst into the General Store just next door to the sheriff's station. "Dale! Glenn! Anyone in here?" he shouted. His own words seemed to echo back at him. There were no responses. "Anyone!" he tried again but it was useless. The place was empty as well.

Rick closed the door and looked out on the main road. At that instant, Quarry felt like a ghost town. There were no obvious signs of life anywhere. Rick was starting to feel the beginnings of panic, wanting to run home and make sure his family was safe. He didn't know what he would do if he couldn't find them. He'd be lost. That was when he spotted the trail of blood in the dirt.

"Here," he said to Randall, pointing. It led them through the rest of town and then veered sharply to the right. Rick realized where the trail was leading. Right to the gallows. His fear mutated into anger. "Damn it, Shane," he muttered.

Now they could hear the sounds of a crowd as they neared the seldomly visited area outside of town. One voice sounded out louder than the others.

"That's what you deserve for trying to kill my baby sister, you monster!" Rick recognized it was Andrea from her words. A murmur of consent issued from the crowd.

Rick and Randall came into view of the gallows and it took a moment for them to take in the scene. There was a small crowd of people facing the gallows but Rick did not make a note of who exactly was there. Merle stood to one side of the rickety wooden structure, looked satisfied as he looked down the trap door at the swinging body of Dave. The dangerous man's neck had obviously been broken during the hanging as his head now hung at an unnatural angle. The bloody trail they had followed appeared to come from him as there was still blood dripping down from his leg, a little pool of it on the ground underneath him.

Atop the gallows, right on the edge, stood Shane. He wasn't looking at Dave but out at the crowd, as if surveying his kingdom. Not one wound was evident on him. His eyes found Rick's as Rick paused at the back of the crowd. For a split second, Shane looked unsure of himself. His boss, and supposedly best friend, had now seen what he'd done. Then the moment passed and Shane's eyes hardened. His head tilted up ever so slightly and his expression became arrogant. He'd done what needed to be done. What Rick didn't seem to have the balls to do.

"Shane," Rick said loudly, his firm tone just barely concealing his burning rage. Everyone in the crowd turned at the sound of his voice and stared at him. Most of them looked shocked that the sheriff would come now, right after the deed had been done. The others just looked interested in what was about to transpire between their sheriff and his deputy.

"Oh, thank goodness you're here! Dale and I tried to stop him but he won't listen to us!" Lori pleaded for understanding.

Rick gave her a little nod and then moved to the stairs coming off the side of the gallows. Shane stomped down them angrily and the whole structure swayed alarmingly. Even Merle at the top looked concerned about his footing, grabbing on to the hangman's beam to steady himself. However, he wasn't planning on missing the show from his superior position so he stayed planted where he was.

When the two men came face to face, Rick didn't say a word. He just stared with piercing eyes at Shane, waiting for an explanation. He was working hard to keep his temper under control so not to physically attack his Deputy. What right did he have to hang their prisoner on his own? The hanging was coming, just as soon as Rick had completed a full investigation and filled out all the necessary paperwork that would need to be sent to Denver. Shane had been trying to undermine his authority in subtle ways a lot lately but this was just a clear betrayal. It was an acute hurt to Rick.

Shane started to ramble in an effort to justify his actions. "That lunatic told me that he was going to rape and murder _your _wife. He threatened to murder everyone in this town. I couldn't allow that to happen. I did what was necessary to protect all of us," he was now yelling in Rick's face.

Rick took a deep breath. "Give me your badge."

"What? No," Shane took a step back from him, now unsure of himself.

"Give me your badge," Rick repeated.

"This is fucking bullshit, Rick! That asshole was going to hang no matter what. I just did it a little early!" Shane screamed at him.

"Fuck! Rick, you're going to fucking regret this!" Shane spat out as he unpinned the deputy badge from his vest. He violently threw it on the ground and then spat on it. Rick just watched him, no pity on face.

A great gasping sound came from the crowd in front of the gallows. Rick and Shane both assumed the sound had been made at the finality of the professional relationship of the town's lawmen. However, when the two men glanced over, they both discovered that not a single set of eyes was on them. They were all looking straight forward at the hanging dead man.

Dave was continuing to swing slowly with his feet dangling off the ground. His head was still tilted at an odd angle but his eyes were open and had taken on a grayish-blue cast. One of his arms came up, the fingers reaching out to the people in front of him. Everyone, especially those near the front, cringed back but none ran. There was a grim fascination watching the dead come back to life. While all of them had now heard the tales of the wendigos around them, none of them had actually seen one manifest like this.

A growling, hissing sound issued from Dave's mouth. It was loud in the ears of his audience as all noise had stopped. Sensing how near his prey was, Dave started to get more agitated. His other hand came up, straining towards them. The hissing sound became more of a dreadful moaning and his teeth began to snap open and shut menacingly.

All of them leapt back at the sharp crack of gun fire. Dave's head exploded and he hung limply from the rope again. The crowd's attention shifted upward to Merle on the top of the gallows. He had a huge grin on his face, his pistol still smoking a little.

"That makes two," he laughed.


	29. Chapter 29

So I spent this weekend at a very intense large animal rescue training class. One of the instructors was named Daryl and every time I heard his name, I instantly thought of our favorite redneck of the same name. Didn't hurt that he was cute too!

Hope you all like this chapter! I did more research so see if you can spot what I came up with for the time period. Pop quiz!

I do not own The Walking Dead or The Twilight Zone but I love those who do.

**Chapter 29**

Carol screamed.

The sound pierced through the air but she could barely hear it over the roaring sound of the blood pumping in her ears. Her legs stumbled backwards and then she started to run as she recovered from the shocking site.

This was a nightmare that she'd been having for years, ever since Ed had started showing his true colors. It began right after their wedding when he came home very late one night from the saloon. He'd been drunk and had lost a good amount of money gambling. All she'd asked him was how much he had left. After all, it technically wasn't even their money. It was her father's, to be used for running the farm. That had pissed him off royally and he slammed her down to the ground in an instant. Back then she'd still been nimble and had leapt to her feet, running from him out of the house. Even in his drunken state, the excitement of the chase was enough to keep him moving after her. Since then, she had repeated nightmares of him hunting her.

The reanimated corpse of her abusive husband pursued her now. Other than his lack of coordination, there was nothing wrong with his arms and legs as he followed her persistently. It was his head and neck that were a ruined mess. One of his ears had been pulled off, leaving him looking lopsided. There was also a huge jagged hole in the middle of his neck. The dried gore from shredded jugulars was still thick and gooey down the front of him. Yet, the absolutely worst part was his face. His lips had been ripped away, leaving a wide skeletal grin.

It seemed like he was smiling at her as he reached out to grab her. Carol flashed back to all the times he had beaten her senseless and then would stand over her, smiling down at her like he'd done something good. She'd resolved that she would never let him do that to her again. Nonetheless, here they were again with him coming after her, smiling down at her.

A choking sob of fright escaped her as she dodged away from his grasping hand. She picked up speed and was able to put some distance between them as she ran towards the hay barn. Last night she had seen the axe used to chop wood leaning against the side of the barn. She had made a mental note at the time to put it back where it belonged today, hung on the inside wall where all the tools were. Due to everything that had come to pass, it had never happened and now that oversight might just save her life.

Behind her, Ed groaned loudly as he lurched through a shallow hole in the ground. It almost sounded like he was calling out her name, the syllables all drawn out. "Caaaa-rrrooollll…" He swayed drunkenly on his feet as they tripped mindless on the short lip of the hole but he unfortunately stayed upright.

Carol turned her head to the barn, hating to take her eyes off him but needing to find the weapon. There it was, the handle resting against the brown barn wall. She pulled it up, gripping the smooth wooden handle with both hands to balance the heavy axe head. Spinning around, she swung it just as he neared her. The axe wobbled in her unsteady hands and sunk into the groove connecting his neck to his shoulders. Black blood sprayed out and slowed his forward movement down from that but it did not stop him.

His arm sprang out in front of him and his fingers were able to clutch at the front of her dress. The material tore away from her body but the white undergarments underneath remained intact, protecting her flesh. With a cry of effort, she wrenched the axe out from his decaying corpse and backpedaled away from him a few feet.

In her peripheral vision, she saw Daryl come tearing around the house. His face was filled with anxiety and his crossbow was up and loaded. Even though he was running at full speed, he wouldn't make it in time to stop dead Ed from ripping into Carol. Both of them knew it.

With a burst of strength, she brought the axe up and swung it right down as if she were chopping firewood. The blade sliced cleanly through the center of his head, coming to stop in the middle of his chest. He wavered for a moment and then crumbled to the ground.

Carol dropped the axe handle, letting it fall with his body. He was truly dead now. Carol was panting from a mix of the exertion and adrenaline. Her whole body was shaking. She looked down at her dead husband and just wanted to spit on him for all the pain he'd caused her.

Daryl stopped several feet away from her. His crossbow was up and aimed directly at her. She froze, her eyes wide as her hands extended in front of her in a gesture to stop. Did he think she had been bit or scratched? Was he just going to end her like that? His eyes did not meet hers and she saw fear there.

"Daryl, wait!" she cried.

He didn't, his finger depressing the trigger to send the bolt flying at her. She squeezed her eyes shut, her body jerking in anticipation for the bolt to pierce through her. It never came. It whistled as it flew past, the feel of the wind of it on her face.

The thud of something heavy behind her landing on the ground had her opening her eyes and swiveling around. There lay Ed's dead Indian princess, a bolt right through her eye. Carol just gaped at the rotting woman.

Pinpricks of bright colors started to flash in front of her vision and she could feel her legs get weak. She knew she was about to pass out and there was not a damn thing she could do about it. A little whimper left her as she fell but Daryl was right there to catch her. His one arm went around her waist as his other arm cradled her head and neck. He slowly lowered her to the ground, coming down with her.

She started to cry and he gently pressed her face against his chest. Sobs wracked her body, tears drenching his shirt. She wanted to stop, wanted to pull herself together. She feared that he would think she was crying for Ed but she wasn't. She was crying from the fear of what had happened to him. It was a fear of what might happen to any of them now that the myth of the Wendigo seemed to have come to life and infected their tiny corner of the world.

Daryl's hand fidgeted in her hair awkwardly. It was like he was trying to reassure her but he really didn't know what to do to calm a hysterical woman. His efforts made her feel better and the sobs quickly ended. She pulled away from him a little but his hands gripped her head on either side. He looked into her blue eyes.

"Are you okay?" he asked with concern.

She nodded, her head moving his hands. "Yes," she whispered. "Thank you."

"Sorry I scared ya. There just wasn't any time to tell ya that thing was behind ya," he explained, seemingly worried that she still thought he was going to shoot her.

"I know. You saved my life."

He gave her a little, tight-lipped smile and then stood up. Offering her his hand, she took it gratefully and lifted herself off the ground. He didn't let go, watching her carefully to make sure she didn't drop again. Once he was satisfied, he went over to the now still carcass of Ed Peletier.

"Nice hit," he complimented her as he examined the axe cut. She blushed a little but then took several steps away from all of it. It was bad enough that she was going to see it every time she closed her eyes. She didn't want to keep looking at it now.

"Daryl, we need to get the sheriff," she told him, her voice still a little shaky. He nodded, walking to her and taking her hand in his again. Together, they walked into town.

**XXXXXXXX**

Michonne surveyed her new surroundings. The three of them were all crammed into the abandoned root cellar far behind the Grimes house. The place was dark, musty and cramped. It was perfect. The best shelter she'd had for weeks since she went on the run.

It was very unlike her to place her trust in anyone. She'd learned that lesson well over her lifetime. Yet, something about the little girl was trustworthy. Sophia, that's what she said her name was. Michonne wasn't quite sure about the little boy but he seemed to follow the lead of his friend. Once he became invested in helping her, he seemed to go all in.

"Here's the best I could find on short notice," Carl said as he handed over three blankets and a pillow. A pillow! She hadn't slept on a real pillow in so long. It was usually just a wadded up piece of clothing. The pillow earned him the tiniest hint of a smile.

He seemed to understand the significance of that and tilted his head down, a smile on his own lips. "You can use this too," he told her softly and held up the smallest lantern. It would not produce much light but would be perfect in the tight quarters of the root cellar. "And here's all I could scratch up in the kitchen." He held out a pear and two thick slices of bread.

Michonne wolfed down one piece of the bread and it tasted like heaven. A good portion of her diet while on the run had been hard biscuits, which made this fresh bread all the more delicious. She saved the other piece and the pear for later.

Spreading out the blankets, she laid down facing the children.

"Thank you," she stated simply, meaning it.

"So are you an escaped slave? Are you running away from your evil master?" Carl asked excitedly, hoping she would tell him everything now that she was settled in.

Michonne lips turned down, her eyes tired. Sophia picked up on it right away.

"Come on, Carl," she said, pushing his shoulder towards the door. "I'm sure she'll tell us everything tomorrow. She looks so tired right now. We should let her sleep." Sophia glanced back at Michonne as she guided Carl out. Michonne rewarded her with a real smile.

Together, the two children were able to get the old root cellar door closed and it looked like no one had ever been there. Then they went into the kitchen through the backdoor and washed all the dirt off their hands.

"Hey Sophia, do you think you could stay over tonight? That way you can help me with our…new project," he asked her.

Sophia was about to say yes, of course, when she suddenly remembered everything with her mom and dad over the past day. She gasped, surprised that she had forgotten something so monumental as leaving Quarry.

Carl caught it but misinterpreted her expression. "It's okay. You don't have to stay over if you don't want to," he assured her, even though the disappointment was evident in his voice.

"Oh Carl, I've been meaning to tell you something all day but I forgot. You know, with our…new project," she said, using his same phrase. She took a deep breath. "I'm leaving Quarry tonight."

"Leaving? Where are you going? Denver?" Carl seemed confused. "How long will you be gone?"

"A long time. Maybe forever," Sophia said sadly.

"Forever? No! Why are you leaving forever?" Carl bawled.

"My dad. You know he hurts us, right?"

"Yes, he's a bad man," Carl agreed. Sophia had long ago begun to confide in her best friend about what her father did to her mom.

"He hurt me worse than ever last night." To illustrate her point, she turned around and pulled the neck of her dress down her back. It revealed the top of the large purple bruise that encompassed most of her upper back.

Carl looked shocked. "He should go to jail."

"It wouldn't work," Sophia said, turning back around. "They couldn't keep him in there forever and then he'd come back and hurt us worse than ever. Mom and I have to leave and we might never be able to come back."

Carl's whole face feel and tears were welling up in his eyes. This in turn made Sophia begin to cry. The two children wrapped their arms around each other. Both of them were on the verge of adulthood and had spent their entire lives believing they would be together forever. Now they were being pulled apart by circumstance and there was nothing they could do.

"You're my best friend and I love you, Sophia. I will never stop missing you," Carl said to her and in that moment, he sounded more grown-up than Sophia had ever heard him.

Sophia pulled back and wiped the tears from her eyes. "I love you too Carl. You are the only true friend I have ever had. I promise I will try to send you post cards from wherever I go. If you get one without any name on it, you'll know it is from me. You just can't tell anyone. We can't have him finding out." She did not have to say who she meant because they both knew.

He nodded then smiled at her. "Before you go, you have to try this new food my dad got from Dale. They're called peanuts."


	30. Chapter 30

Happy belated Father's Day to everyone! Of course, I am assuming everyone reading this is female. If you are reading this and are not female, PM me! I'd love to find out from a sociological point of view.

I do not own The Walking Dead or The Twilight Zone but I love those who do.

**Chapter 30**

Once it was clear that Dave was truly dead this time, the crowd around the gallows began to disperse. Rick stared numbly down at the deputy's badge, which had been thrown so carelessly in the dirt. Behind him, he could hear his wife arguing with Andrea about the hanging. He tuned them out, not wanting to deal with those heated emotions at the moment.

Merle came bounding down the stairs of the gallows right next to Rick. The heavy footfalls made the rickety structure creak loudly and anyone left standing nearby cringed away. Merle stopped, spotting the badge on the ground and scooping it up before Rick could stop him.

"Hey, looky what I found here. A real sheriff's deputy badge! Guess that makes me yer new partner, huh?" Merle grinned broadly and slapped Rick hard on the back.

Rick looked at him, shock at that prospect clearly written on his face. He swallowed, trying to think of what to say to this new development.

Merle started laughing hysterically. "You thought I was serious, didn't ya!" Merle leaned over, both hands on his knees as he cackled. "Don't you worry your pretty little head, Sheriff. Ain't nobody gonna make a lawman out of this redneck. But it was worth it just ta see that look on yer face." Merle handed Rick the medal emblem of the law.

The men looked up when the heated words between the women behind them halted, both of them gasping.

"Carol, what happened to you?" Andrea questioned. She was taking in Carol's damaged dress, which was ripped and splattered with black flecks of gore.

Daryl held her hand firmly in his and was leading her toward the Sheriff with a determined look on his face. That is, until he spotted Merle gawking at their hands clasped together. Daryl blushed and dropped her hand quickly, not meeting his brother eyes. Carol didn't notice this exchange because Andrea was practically on top of her with worry.

"Did Ed do this to you?" she asked as she fingered the torn material. "What is this black stuff?"

"It's dead blood," Carol whispered, tears forming in her eyes again. "Ed came after me but he was dead. He was one of those wendigos, like that woman in the woods. I killed him but there were two of them." With that, her face crumpled and Andrea pulled her into her arms comfortingly.

Rick pulled Daryl a little to the side and Merle moved with them, listening intently. Rick didn't want to make Carol more upset with a string of questions but he needed to find out what exactly happened. Daryl seemed less emotional so Rick questioned him instead. "What happened?"

Daryl told him all about Ed. He went into detail about how Carol had put him down and then about the Indian squaw that he'd shot through the head behind her. He did not say why he happened to be at a farm that he'd been banned from and Rick did not ask.

Daryl, being a very observant person, noticed the body hanging from the gallows off to the side. "Somethin' excitin' happen here that we missed?" he asked.

"Just a old-fashioned hanging!" Merle said merrily. "Of course, most guys tend ta die when they break their necks but this guy decided he weren't done with this world till I introduced a bullet into his brain. Almost got to be the deputy too." Merle winked at him.

Daryl sent an incredulous look at Rick. Merle as a lawman? Seemed unthinkable. Rick just shook his head, a little smile on his as he started to relax slightly from all the stress. Daryl knew then that Merle was just yanking his chain.

Andrea pulled away from Carol. "All that matters is you're okay. I need to go check on Amy because I am sure she is crawling out of her skin with curiosity over what's going on out here. If I leave her much longer, she's going to get out of that bed and tear her stitches open." Andrea then looked pointedly at Carol. "You and me gotta talk soon." She gave Carol a big smile then waved good-bye as she headed into the saloon.

"Hey, Lori. Where are the kids?" Carol asked as she wiped the tears off her face, regaining her composure. She had just noticed that the woman who was supposed to be caring for her daughter was without them. Yet, she wasn't overly concerned because often times they would go over to the Greene farm with Beth.

"They're in the General Store," Lori answered.

Rick's head snapped up at hearing that. "No they aren't."

"What? They have to be," Lori stated, her voice raising an octave.

"I'm telling you, they aren't in there. When Randall and I were trying to figure out where everyone was, I checked in there. It was empty," Rick explained as the entire group began moving towards the store.

Lori's voice rose another octave as she became more frantic. "I told them not to move from that place!"

Daryl made it to the door first and wrenched it open. "Sophia!" he called out as everyone else crowded in behind him. Dale, who had just come back himself, walked out from behind the counter.

"She's not here," Dale said, looking confused. "There was nobody here when I just came back in."

Lori started looking down each aisle. "They were supposed to stay right here!" They could hear tears threatening in her voice.

Rick stopped her, steadying her with his hands on her shoulders. "Listen, they probably got bored and went back to the house. Remember, they are used to having the freedom of going wherever they want in town. They aren't used to being restricted. Before we all get upset, let's go check the house first."

Lori, nodded her head, agreeing with Rick's assessment. They all left the store and Dale called out behind them, "If they show up here, I'll send them back to your house, Sheriff!"

The group moved en mass out of the center of town and right through the front door into the Grimes' house. Lori was the first one in and she stopped short in the doorway to the kitchen. Carol, who was directly behind her, bumped into her unexpectedly but then stepped back.

"Carl Grimes, I told you to stay in that General Store! What are you doing back here?" Lori screeched. Carl and Sophia looked up, shocked. There were peanut shells everywhere and half the sack was gone. Not a word came from them. Lori took a step towards them and some of the shells cracked loudly. "Answer me, young man," she ground out between clenched teeth.

Sophia was actually the one to speak up in the face of her best friend's angry mother. "Um, we got hungry and we didn't want to steal any of Mr. Dale's food so we came back here," she clarified in a small voice.

Merle, who was at the back of the group, started laughing again. He was highly amused by Sophia's answer and the exasperated look on Lori's face. Daryl grabbed him by the arm and pulled him out of the house, throwing an apologetic look back at the rest of them.

"Damn, those kids crack me up sometimes," he chuckled. "Especially when they piss of the Sheriff's woman. I love seein' that prim and proper chick get her feathers all ruffled." He glanced back at the house. "I'mma gonna go find me some different entertainment. Wonder where Karen went?" He walked away without another word to his brother. Daryl shook his head at his big brother's retreating back before going back inside.

Back in the house, Lori was making Carl clean up all the peanut shells that were littering the kitchen. Carol asked if she and Sophia could talk alone in their parlor and Rick escorted them in before closing the door behind him.

"What happened to you, mama?" Sophia asked as Carol sat her down on the sofa. She absently touched the torn and stained fabric down the front of her dress.

Carol took a deep breath. "I was packing up to get us out of there and Daryl asked if anyone had fed the animals today. With Merle gone and-"

"What was Daryl doing there?" Sophia interrupted her.

Carol paused, feeling like she'd been caught doing something wrong. "Well…he was there for…" She tried to think of an excuse but Sophia knew Merle had been fired and Daryl banned from the farm. "He was there to protect me while I was packing." It seemed close enough to the truth.

Sophia smiled. "Aww, that was sweet of him," she cooed.

Carol wished they could have just talked about Daryl but she did not want to stall any further with the important information Sophia needed to hear. She touched the girl's forehead, running her fingers through her daughter's hair lovingly. "Sophia, your father died today."

Sophia's eyes widened slightly, a serious expression on her face. Then she whispered, "Did Daryl kill him?"

Carol was stunned. "Why would you think that?"

Sophia shrugged. "Daryl doesn't seem to like it when Ed hurts you. If he was there protecting you and Ed tried to hurt you, then he might get mad enough to kill him."

Sophia seemed so calm, saying these words so matter-of-factly. Even though Carol had no love or remorse left for her husband, she still found it very sad that her daughter. The girl never really had a father, more like the monster he eventually became.

"No," she answered. "Daryl did not kill him. He was bitten by one of those wendigos."

Sophia nodded understandingly. "Like the woman eating the bear in the woods."

"Yes."

Sophia seemed to brighten. "So he's gone. We don't have to leave!" she cried enthusiastically. The girl jumped up and hugged her mother fiercely. Then she seemed to compose herself and sat back down on the sofa. "Are you sad he's gone? It's okay if you are, even though he hurt you a lot," she told her mother in a concerned voice.

Carol felt the tears coming to her eyes from her daughter's words. "No, I'm not sad he's gone," she answered truthfully.

"Good. He was a bad person. Maybe now Daryl can keep coming over and we can let Merle work our farm again?" she asked hopefully.

Carol could not help but smile. "Of course. Are you ready to go home now that we don't have to leave?"

Sophia unexpectedly frowned. "Actually, Carl was real upset when I told him we were leaving. I think I should stay over here tonight to reassure him I'm staying." It was kind of the truth but not the whole truth.

Carol thought about it. Sophia really didn't seem that fazed by Ed's death. She hadn't gone into the gory details about it but Sophia had already had first-hand experience with the wendigo. How could she deny her? "As long as it is okay with Carl's parents."

"Thank you mom!" she cried as she went to the door. Before the opened it, she spun around and commented, "Maybe Daryl can stay with you tonight so you won't be alone. You know, since I won't be home." Then she was gone.

Carol sat there on the sofa, not sure how to take that last remark.


	31. Chapter 31

Warning! This chapter contains smut. Please beware. This one ended up being a long one for me!

I do not own The Walking Dead or The Twilight Zone but I love those who do.

**Chapter 31**

The sun was heading for the western horizon and the shadows were beginning to stretch out in front of them. The day was coming to a close. Carol wrapped her arms around her body as she walked down the road towards her farm. She was relieved not to be running. If things had gone according to plan, she and Sophia would have been out on the road, unlikely to have made it to the next town before the sun set.

However, she was still somewhat disturbed by the recent turn of events. She had come close to death at the hands of her tormentor. The way she'd had to defend herself with the axe was not something she knew she had been capable of before. She was glad that she'd had the strength to accomplish it but she felt like a small part of her innocence was gone now. She was a changed woman and that frightened her a little.

Daryl walked beside her quietly. It was a comfortable silence between them, each of them absorbed in their own thoughts. Occasionally their shoulders would brush against each other but they were not holding hands.

While Carol had been talking to Sophia, Daryl and Rick had arranged to have the bodies at the farm taken care of. Rick was going to alert Herschel and then he and Jimmy would come get them. Neither of the men wanted Carol to be involved in any process of it. After it had been resolved that Sophia would be staying at the Grimes' house for the night, there had been an unspoken agreement that Daryl would escort Carol home. Nobody was to be outside alone with it starting to get dark, especially one who had already been through a trauma like Carol had today.

As the farm house came into sight, they turned down the walkway leading right to it. Daryl spotted the suitcases by the tree. They were laying haphazardly after having been forgotten in all the excitement. He walked quickly ahead to gather them up for her.

Yet, when he turned back, he saw that she had stopped by the road, not coming any further. Her body was facing away from him and she was looking down at the ground. She seemed to be playing with a stone in the dirt absentmindedly. Daryl walked over, stopping in front of her.

"I can't," she said. Her eyes did not come up from the stone.

Daryl frowned. "Can't what?"

Now her eyes met his and he saw panic in them. "I can't stay here. Not tonight."

Daryl glanced at the house. It was a nice farm house, not huge but comfortable. However, for a person who'd been through what she had, he could see how it could be creepy all alone in the dark. "I'll stay with ya," he offered, having already planned on doing just that. "On the couch," he quickly added, not wanting her to think he was planning on taking advantage of her vulnerability.

Her eyes went back to the stone and she shook her head. "No, I can't stay here. It'll be better tomorrow but not tonight." Her voice fell to a whisper. "Can I stay with you?"

Daryl stared at her, not sure what to say to such a request. His little house was not nice like hers. Sure, he'd been fixing it up slowly since they got there so the roof didn't leak now and holes in the floor had been repaired. He'd even gotten a nice kitchen set with a table and chairs. Yet, it still did not have running water and the floor was bare wooden slats. "Carol…"

"Please?" she pleaded with him, eyes back on him. "I promise I will sleep on the sofa and not bother you about anything. I'll even cook you breakfast in the morning. Please, just for tonight," her voice sped up, as if she sensed he was relenting. He didn't have the heart to tell her that he didn't even own a sofa.

He huffed, knowing he was going too agree to it. The image of the dead Indian squaw looming behind her, hands outstretched to tear into her slim body, flickered through his brain. He felt the fear of losing her so soon after discovering the depths of his feelings for her. He didn't dare let her alone now. He nodded.

A huge smile brightened her face and for a moment, he thought she was going to jump up and down with joy. But she restrained herself. "Thank you, Daryl. Neither you nor Merle will even know I am there."

Oh god, Merle. He hadn't thought about that. His big brother would never let him live this down. Also, he didn't want Merle messing with Carol either. She didn't need that. Considering it carefully, he knew there was a way he could work it that Merle would never know she was even there. He hoped. Maybe he'd get lucky and Merle wouldn't even come home tonight. It wasn't an impossible prospect.

He put Sophia's suitcase on the porch and then carried hers with him. She practically seemed to skip beside him as they continued traveling down the road. He got more and more nervous they neared his house. He didn't think she had ever been to his house and thought she was in for a rude awakening. With almost anyone else in the world, he wouldn't give a shit what they thought of his living conditions but he was somewhat uncomfortable with the idea that she would judge them.

As they came to it, he cringed. The place looked so dingy. Yet, when he glanced over at her, her smile never dimmed. He loved her for that.

Once they got inside, it was relatively dark as the sun descended past the horizon. Daryl lit a large lantern on the table and it flamed to life, illuminating the room with a soft golden glow. Carol paused in the living room, seemingly unsure of herself.

"No sofa," she mused. She eyed one of the larger chairs, which was fairly well padded if not a little worn.

"Here," he said, taking her suitcase into his bedroom. She stopped in the doorway and surveyed his room. It was sparsely furnished with a single twin bed, a dresser and a night stand holding a small lantern. Daryl lit the lantern and laid her suitcase on the bed. "You can sleep in here tonight."

She came in and as she was acclimating to her surroundings, he slipped out. When he returned, he carried two more blankets and another pillow. He stripped the bed down to the sheets and pulled one of the new blankets on it. Then he placed the fresh pillow at the head.

Carol watched silently until he started laying out the other blankets on the floor. "What are you doing?" she questioned.

"I don't want Merle knowin' yer here. Don't want him givin' ya any trouble. I know it really ain't right, us in the same room and all but I'll sleep over here by the door," he told her as he threw the pillow from the bed onto the floor with the blankets.

"Daryl, I'm not going to kick you out of your own bed. I'll sleep on the floor," she said determinedly, moving over to the blankets spread out by the door.

"No, yer not sleeping on the floor," he said just as stubbornly. He blocked her from getting any closer to the makeshift bed. "Yer sleeping in the bed and I'll make sure nothin' gets through that door."

"Don't be ridiculous, Daryl. I pressured you into letting me stay here. I get that you don't want Merle to know I'm here, even though I doubt he'll give me nearly as much trouble as he'll give you. But I'm not having you sleep on the floor." With that, she attempted to dodge around him but he caught her. She yelped as he practically threw her on the bed.

He knew he shouldn't have done that. She was a women who been handled badly by a man for years. He wanted to sink into the floor when he saw her curl in on herself and lean her head against the wall. Her face was away from him but he was afraid she was about the cry.

"I'm sorry. I never meant-." He reached out to gently touch her shoulder.

Suddenly, she was up and around him before he'd even blinked. There was a self-satisfied grin on her face as she plunked herself down on the blankets on the floor.

His mouth hung open in astonishment. "You faker!"

"Now I know where your weaknesses lie, Dixon," she mouthed off to him, snickering.

"You ain't sleepin' on the floor," he ground out, more determined than ever to get his way. With that, he proceeded to lift her off the floor and sling her over his shoulder. Her head narrowly missed the dresser but neither of them noticed.

"Daryl!" she shrieked but then she dissolved into giggles. He carried her across the room and pulled her off him to throw her back on the bed. However, she had other ideas and locked her arms around her neck. With her forward momentum, he struggled against gravity from being dragged down with her. Unfortunately, his foot caught the edge of the blanket on the floor and he slipped. His body crashed down on top of hers on the bed.

He tried to sit up, move off her but she twined her hand in his shirt and pulled him against her further. Her lips found his and she was kissing him unexpectedly. He froze for a second but she wasn't discouraged. Her mouth moved over his and then she gently sucked his bottom lip between hers. It made him dizzy and he closed his eyes, tilting his head a little to aid her movements.

Her tongue flicked out, touching his lips, asking for entrance. His lips parted, granting it. He could feel her tongue scrape against his teeth. Then he opened his mouth more, deepening the kiss. His tongue slid against hers, dancing. He explored her mouth and she tasted so good to him.

She made a soft moan and he could feel the noise through his mouth. The vibration of it was delicious. It sent a jolt of electricity through his body and he could feel himself getting hard.

That made him panic for a moment. He didn't want to her thinking he had lured her into his bed just to please himself. It had not been on his mind, not after what she'd been through that day. Not that he hadn't had a few dreams about exactly this, ones that left him drenched in sweat and needing to take care of himself before getting back to sleep.

He shifted his hips away from her, trying to hide his predicament. Sensing him doing this, she made a little noise of displeasure against his mouth. The hand twined in his shirt clutched tighter to stop him. He was getting to the point where he needed to stop this or he wouldn't be able to stop.

Her other hand moved up his thigh and it aroused him further. The panic inched up another notch as well. Yet, his tongue was in her mouth and she was sucking on it so lusciously. He didn't want to stop.

Before he could blink, her hand had his pants open and her fingers were wrapped around the length of him. He broke the kiss, his hand gripping onto her wrist. In his panic, it was probably harder than he should have been holding her but she didn't let go of him.

"What're ya doin'?" he asked, hating how hoarse his voice sounded. Like it was full of lust but frightened of it. It perfectly reflected the turmoil going on inside him.

"Thanking you. For saving my life and letting me stay here tonight," she told him. Her fingers slipped just a little against him and he could feel more of his blood rushing below the belt.

"Ya don't have to do that," he said.

"Relax, Daryl," she said in a breathy voice. It reminded him of how she sounded in his image of the lake. He didn't relax, his body wound tight as a spring. But he did take his hand off her wrist. It was him giving her permission to proceed as she wanted but he was still unsure.

Without moving her hand, she leaned up and kissed him again. Slowly, she gently eased him over so that he was lying fully on the bed. Only his feet hung off the side. She was pressed between him and the wall.

"Take off your boots," she directed him. He complied, toeing off each one. Then she kicked off her own shoes, which landed lightly on the floor. His feet came up on the bed with the rest of him.

Then her hand started to move. Her long fingers were stroking him, slowly at first. Up and down, her fingernails just barely grazing the sensitive skin and sending little streams of fire through his nerves. The heat was building into a river. Then her pace increased and he moaned, unable to stop himself. His hips were starting to move at the same pace as her hand and he wasn't sure if he was supposed to be doing that.

All of his thoughts and doubts dissolved when she took her thumb and rubbed right along the tip. The sensation was incredible and he felt like he was exploding. His hands twisted in the blankets as a strangled moan escaped his lips. Stars flashed in front of his eyes. He went over the edge, panting as the orgasm took him.

He fell back against the pillow, spent and unable to budge. His heart was still thumping so fast in his chest that he was sure she could hear it. Never had he felt such pleasure amazing as this. And that was just with her hand! Intimacy was something he'd always stayed away from, not wanting to let any woman be this close to him. Yet, with a woman who he'd been secretly harboring feelings for like Carol, it was easier to let her in. If this was how it could feel, he now understood Merle's drive for bedding women.

Staring up at the ceiling, he couldn't move as he recovered from the aftershocks of it. Carol moved around him. She cleaned up, tucked him back in his pants and then buttoned him back up again. Then she squeezed under his arm, laying her head on his chest. His arm wrapped around her instinctively.

"Thank you," she whispered and he could feel the smile on her lips through his shirt. He wanted to say something but no words would come into his scrambled mind. Instead, his arm tightened around her protectively.

They laid there together, holding each other. Neither one felt the inclination to get out of their clothes, the clothes they had been wearing all day. Drifting in their heads, they both fell into an easy sleep.


	32. Chapter 32

Sorry if anyone got annoyed that I said the last chapter was longer than normal when it was actually about the same length as usual. The first scene in this chapter had been tacked on the end of last chapter but I felt that it was rushed. So I split it into its own chapter and expanded it. I'm really happy with how it came out so hopefully you will like it.

The song Merle sings is actually one from the Civil War era.

I do not own The Walking Dead or The Twilight Zone but I love those who do.

**Chapter 32**

Darkness covered the countryside. The moon was only half full so the shadows were deeper. It gave an advantage to anything that might have been lurking outside. Yet, the crickets chirped their happy songs and it seemed peaceful.

Daryl was stretched out on his bed with Carol pressed against him. Her head was laying on his chest and his arm was wrapped around her shoulder. They had drifted together into an easy sleep. Neither of them dreamed, just slept comfortably in each others arms. That was until both of them jumped awake at the loud sound of the front door slamming shut.

Merle's loud voice boomed through the house as he sang out a bawdy ballad. "Roll me over in the clover, roll me over, lay me down, and do it again. Now this is number one and I'm buttering up her bun. Roll me over, lay me down, and do it again." They could hear him walk right past the door to the kitchen.

Daryl scrambled up and off the bed. He held his finger against his lips to indicate that she should keep quiet. She nodded in understanding and settled herself back in the bed. He left the room, pulling the door shut behind him.

Merle's eyes lit up a little too brightly at seeing him and Daryl knew he'd been drinking. "Hello baby brother!" he greeted Daryl warmly. "I didn't wake ya, did I?"

"Nah, I was up," Daryl lied, hoping that if he reassure him, he could just get his brother off to bed without too much effort.

"Oh boy, that woman Karen. You cannot imagine what she can do with her tongue. I ain't even knocked boots with her yet and I think I'm in love," Merle gushed.

"Thought you didn't like women with kids?" Daryl questioned.

"Eh," he shrugged. "Her kid is growin' on me. He laughs at all my jokes. I could get used ta that." Merle stopped smiling for a moment, focusing fully on Daryl. Then the smile returned, big like the Cheshire cat's. "What about you with Carol? Holdin' her hand today? Didn't think I'd caught ya doin' that, did ya?" Daryl snorted, not saying anything in response to that comment. Unfortunately for him, Merle was not so easily put off. "She finally gonna be the one to pop yer cherry, boy?"

"Jesus, Merle! Shut the fuck up," Daryl spat out. He knew Carol could hear the whole conversation in his room.

Merle glared at Daryl's door. "Why ya got your door closed? You never close it unless yer pissed off at me and yer sittin' in there sulking. Ya don't seem ta be sulking right now."

Daryl could feel a blush creep over his face as he thought about his most recent activities behind that door. He cursed himself as he watched Merle's face become suspicious.

"Let it go Merle," Daryl warned him.

Letting things go was not Merle's style. He went for the door. Daryl didn't know what to do to. He couldn't let his brother find Carol in there. So he tackled his brother to the ground from behind.

"Damn it Daryl, get offa me! What you got hidin' in there?" Merle kneed him in the gut and Daryl grunted in discomfort. He didn't let go though. He grasped Merle's belt and tried to haul him backwards. As he pulled, his leg splayed out and kicked one of the kitchen chairs. It made a horrid screeching noise as it slid across the floor. Merle twisted his arm around, grabbing at Daryl's fingers. He started bending two of them back.

"Stop it, Merle!"

Suddenly, the door flew open. Carol stepped out and gave a stern look at the two men on the floor. "Hello, Merle," she stated simply.

For possibly the first time in his whole life, Merle was struck speechless. He just gaped at her, his mouth trying to form words but failing. Daryl pushed off of him and stood up.

"You were... he...he had you in there?" Merle managed to stutter out. Neither of them answered. Merle laid there for a minute longer and then he began chuckling as he got over the shock of seeing a woman like Carol come out of his baby brother's bedroom. Then he picked himself up off the floor.

"Well, welcome to our lovely abode." He swept his arm around to indicate the little house. "I woulda been quieter comin' in if I had known you and my brother were occupied." He said the last word with emphasis and Daryl blushed again. Merle smirked at him but his focus went back to Carol. "I'm sure he hasn't been the best host." Merle guided her to the most comfortable chair in the living room. She was plunked down and she laughed a little at the surreal situation she found herself.

Daryl looked like he was at a loss on what to do to rectify the situation.

"Let me get you a drink," Merle said as he headed to the kitchen and poured a generous amount of pale liquid into a glass.

"Oh god, not the moonshine," Daryl muttered.

Both of them ignored him as Merle went to hand Carol a glass of his famous brew. "Thank you Merle," she smiled and reached for the cup.

Merle frowned, pulling the glass back out of her reach. Then he put it on the side table and clutched her still outstretched hand. She tried to draw her arm away from him, knowing what he was doing, but he held firm. Carefully he tugged the sleeve down, revealing already purpling bruises on her wrist. The two men stared at the damage.

"You do this, little brother? Ya get a little too overexcited?" Merle asked. Daryl's face was a display of utter dismay, knowing that he had. He hadn't realized he'd been gripping her wrist so tightly. Merle continued, "The female form is delicate. Ya got to be easy with it."

Carol jerked hand out of Merle's hold and waved him away. "Oh Merle, you should know by now that compared to what I'm used to, this is gentle foreplay," Carol said lightly. Daryl's eyes widened so she gave him a reassuring smile. Then she seized the glass on moonshine off the table and took a huge swig of it.

When the firewater hit the back of her throat, it burned. Daryl gave her a lot of credit for not just spitting it right back out. He watched as she struggled to swallow it down and then she coughed a little. "Wow, that is some strong stuff," she choked out. Daryl sat down in the chair next to her and rubbed her back. He wanted to help make her feel better but after seeing the bruises he'd inflicted on her, he was unsure of himself. His movements were tentative and awkward.

Merle just shook his head and, with a smile on his face, went back into the kitchen to pour drinks for him and Daryl. There was hope for his baby brother but Carol had a lot of work on her plate with that one.

**XXXXXXXX**

Carol woke up the next morning disoriented. The sun was streaming brightly through the window with no curtains to block it. It lit up the small room brightly, making her eyes ache. There was a faint throbbing in her head but it wasn't too bad.

It took a moment for her to recall exactly where she was. Then she remembered and smiled. She was alone in Daryl's bed, remembering him practically tucking her in late last night. She had not drunk much more of the strong alcohol after the initial gulp but it was enough to make her somewhat loopy. She wasn't sure where he'd ended up sleeping but she knew it wasn't with her. Even if it was improper, she wished he had stayed.

She stretched languidly on the bed, breathing in deeply. Even with the fresh blankets, his scent was all around her. Rolling over, she pressed her face into the cloth, breathing in more. After a few minutes of just lounging and enjoying herself, she figured she really should get up. Dressing quickly from the clothes in her suitcase, she went out in the kitchen to see about making breakfast for them. Merle's bedroom door was just on the other side of the kitchen and she could hear him snoring away inside. She wasn't the only one who'd slept in.

Then she spotted Daryl through the window. He was in the horse enclosure with Sky. Carol could not help but smile as she watched him brushing the horse down. He looked so calm and at peace doing the simple task. Sky was busy munching on an apple he must have given her, enjoying the brushing. She could tell just how much he loved that horse with how much attention he paid to her care.

With the smile still on her lips, she proceeded to make them breakfast. It was not easy as her kitchen at home was much better equipped than theirs. However, she was able to cook up some eggs and toast with coffee to drink. The smells emanating from the room must have been strong enough to awaken Merle because he came out of his bedroom quickly. He was only wearing his pants, his shirt in his hand.

"Mmm,mmm," he hummed as he pulled his shirt over his head. "Ain't never smelled anything so good comin' outta this place."

Carol dished out three plates and handed the first one to Merle. "I had to thank you somehow for letting me stay here last night." He took the plate over to the table and began scarfing it down. She paused, her tone changing as she continued. "Listen, Merle. I wanted to ask if you'd be willing to come back to working on the farm."

That diverted Merle's attention off his food. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. Now that Ed's gone, I'm going to need help. You always seemed to get the jobs done he never did. I'd need you to work on the crops too because I know he'd been neglecting them. Do you know what he was doing out in those fields?" she asked.

Merle shook his head, mouth full of toast.

"Me neither. He certainly wasn't working. Anyway, if you'd be willing to come back, I'd like you to run the place for me. You can even hire another farm hand once I get back on my feet financially. Shouldn't take too long now that most of the money won't be spent at the card table."

Merle smiled genuinely. "That's mighty kind of you. Best offer I've had in ages. I'll take that deal."

Carol laughed and said, "I'll even overlook the occasional nap in the hay loft." Merle laughed heartily at that. Carol stuck her head out the back door and called Daryl in for breakfast, figuring it was a good idea since Merle was already eyeballing Daryl's plate. Daryl patted Sky on the side and then headed to the rain bucket to wash his hands.

A loud knock had her and Merle looking sharply at the door. Merle answered it, letting Randall step into the house. Daryl came in through the back, not saying anything but nodding at the young man.

"Good morning folks," he tipped his hat to them. "Glad you're here, Mrs. Peletier. I tried you at your house but was afraid I'd missed you." Carol blushed a little, knowing that if it had been anyone else from town, it might have become a scandal that she was alone in the house of these two rough men. Heck, it still could be a scandal but she did not really care. After everything she'd been through with Ed, it didn't matter a lick at all what others thought.

Randall carried on, "Sheriff Rick sent me out to alert everyone that there is going to be a town meeting this afternoon. He wants everyone there to discuss what is going on and what we are going to do about it. Children can come too. Because we won't all fit in the saloon, it is going to be held in the Greene's large barn. Apparently, you all have a yearly town founding party there?"

Carol spoke up, having helped with the planning and execution of that party each year. "Yes, that's the place. The barn is huge with a stage and everything. What time?"

"Four o'clock, ma'am."

"We'll be there," she told him, speaking for all three of them. The men nodded affirmatively. Something strange had been going on in this town for over a week and it was high time they all addressed it.


	33. Chapter 33

Sorry it took me so long to get out! I got slammed at work. It was bad, like no time for paperwork or even lunch. And there were maggots. Yes, disgusting maggots. Why do I always get the maggot cases? *shudders*

Thanks to Haitus80 for letting me use the name "Buck"!

I do not own The Walking Dead or The Twilight Zone but I love those who do.

**Chapter 33**

The afternoon sun was getting hot as spring was slowly moving into summer. Sheriff Rick Grimes walked through town with his family to the Greene farm. It was very rare that a town meeting was called because usually things ran very smoothly in Quarry but the past two weeks had been out of control. It was like one problem after another. Murderers, mutilated bodies and the dead coming back to life was more than enough to warrant a town-wide discussion.

On top of all that, Rick was still reeling from the loss of his deputy yesterday. Shane had been his best friend and his betrayal was like a stab in the back to Rick. Actually, when he'd thrown the badge into the dirt, Rick had felt like the knife had been thrust right into his heart, severing their friendship. First shooting and then hanging Dave had been a reckless move. He was lucky that no one had gotten hurt.

When Dave had changed into one of those Wendigo monsters, half the town had been there to witness it. It was shocking and scary for these people who lived simple lives way out in the territories. That was not the way Rick wanted to inform them about such a threat. Luckily, Dave had been strung up and unable to hurt anyone when he turned but that was more dumb luck than any kind of precaution Shane had taken.

Since then, Shane had basically disappeared. He knew that Dale had gone banging on Shane's door to see if he was alright. Dale was like the resident conscience for the town and most people were appreciative of his concern. However, even he had not gotten a response. Rick figured Shane would make an appearance once his anger had cooled but he wasn't sure he would ever be able to forgive his former deputy. The trust was broken.

Lori brushed up against his arm, knocking him out of his depressing thoughts. She gave him a small smile, which had Rick grinning back at her. Ever since she had gotten a first-hand look at Shane's behavior the day before, it was like she suddenly understood all that he'd been going through. They had talked, really talked, for hours last night. No fighting, no angry words, just understanding. Then they made love, something they hadn't done in a long time. Despite all the problems with Shane, Rick felt truly happy for a time just being with his wife.

Carl and Sophia were walking ahead of them, whispering often into each others' ears. There was also a lot of giggling accompanying those whispers. Rick had noticed how engrossed they had been with each other since yesterday. He wondered what kind of project they were working on. Not that it mattered. He liked Sophia Peletier and was glad that she had something to take her mind off the trauma of losing her father. Of course, Ed Peletier had not been much of a father, in Rick's opinion. He had a feeling the girl, and her mother, would be better off without the man.

Andrea, Amy, T-Dog and Milton came up behind them just as they reached the Greene farm. Amy was looking much better than she had earlier in the week after being stabbed. She still was walking gingerly and had a pale tint to her complexion but she seemed bright and happy to be out of bed. Although, as soon as Herschel saw her coming into the barn, he directed her right into a chair and told her not to exert herself. That earned him a roll of the eyes followed by a thankful grin that he cared so much.

The Greene hay barn was huge, the largest open space indoors in the town. It made sense considering the Greene's had the largest farm in town as well. There had been a small stage constructed on one end for just such occasions where the entire population of Quarry needed to be together. Usually it was for the happier event of the town founding party, where some of the more musically-inclined people would play instruments and sing. However, it also worked for important meetings of town business.

Chairs had been set up and were already beginning to be occupied. Most of the farm hands were there, most likely since they were the ones that set up the chairs. He recognized Alex, Oscar, Jimmy and Martinez. The traveling farrier with his daughter and grandson had also taken seats near the back. The Jones family, Morgan, Jenny and Duane, the family that owned the smaller farm across the road, were just sitting down closer to the front.

Lori gave him a peck on the cheek and then ushered the children over to an empty row. Carl and Sophia waved enthusiastically to Beth as she walked in. Following close behind her came Maggie and Glenn. The couple were holding hands, looking so in love with each other. They all sat down in the row right behind his family so that Beth could tickle the two kids. He couldn't help but chuckle at the outrageous laughs that drifted over to him from that.

Rick made his way up to the stage and saw Herschel sitting on the side, watching the townspeople filing in.

"You ready for this?" the older man asked him, a twinkle in his eye.

"I don't think it'll be too bad," Rick responded. "If there was going to be a panic, I think it would have happened yesterday after the hanging."

Herschel nodded in agreement. "You know, as gory as I heard that was, I wish I could have been there to have seen him change into the Wendigo thing. My scientific mind is very curious."

Rick frowned. "I wish I could say that I hope he was the last but I don't think this is over yet. That's why we have to have this meeting."

"You're right, sonny."

Rick glanced back out at the crowd. The room was almost full of everyone in town. He spotted Carol Peletier entering the barn accompanied by the Dixon brothers. He watched Merle break off from them and head right over to Karen, the farrier's daughter. Both her father and son seemed pleased to see Merle, which just seemed odd to Rick. Carol and Daryl took seats right in front of his family. Sophia jumped up with a big smile on her face to give her mother a hug over the chair.

A small movement caught his eye as Carol straightened up from the hug. Daryl's hand had brushed lightly across the small of her back and was hesitantly hovering there until she sat down. Then he sat down next to her. Sophia leaned forward from behind them, resting one elbow on her mother's shoulder and the other on Daryl's shoulder. He couldn't hear what was being said but they all looked happy, even Daryl.

It had come as a great surprise to him that there could be something going on between Daryl Dixon and Carol Peletier. He didn't know the two of them even associated with each other, although in a town as small as Quarry, everyone knew each other to some extent. The first hint that they were even friends was when he'd learned from Dale about Daryl defending Carol in the saloon that night not even a week ago. After witnessing how many wounds Carol had suffered at the hands of her husband, Rick could not help but get some satisfaction from Ed getting his face beaten bloody by Daryl. However, seeing them yesterday made him think there might even be more than just friendship between them. Even if it was very briefly, Rick had seen Daryl holding Carol's hand as he led her into town.

Rick thought back to a few years ago when the Dixon brothers had moved into the old King place. He had not been the sheriff for very long and he wanted to be on top of any potential threats to his town. Their father, Buck Dixon, had quite a reputation for bad behavior, including rumors of murder. At the time, Rick had only heard the faintest gossip about the eldest brother Merle but that had come from unreliable sources. He hadn't heard anything about the younger brother Daryl but when he'd gone out to meet them for the first time, Daryl had been very quiet with an air of hostility around him. When Merle had gotten fired for harassing the older Greene girl shortly after coming to Quarry, Rick had hoped the two men would just move on.

Yet, now he couldn't imagine the town without the Dixon brothers. Merle was a loud-mouth, obnoxious prick half the time but the other half of the time, he could be down right hilarious. Also, he was the only work hand left at the Peletier's place and Rick was fairly sure he kept that farm running. Although he had no proof, Rick suspected that Ed had been addicted to opium. He'd seen white powder on him and his behaviors fit the profile of an addict. That made him sloppy, mean and inefficient as a farm owner. He had no doubt that with Ed out of the way, Merle would be back running that farm in no time.

As for Daryl, the man had proven to be an invaluable asset to Quarry. No one before him had even attempted to establish a relationship with the nearby Sioux tribe. Rick still wasn't sure how he'd gained the skittish people's trust but the trading had been going strong for a couple years now. It had put Quarry on the map back east and brought more money in. Now the supply wagons came every three months instead of every six, which was the typical for such a tiny town in the territories. Dale was even talking about getting a telegraph station installed. Too bad it hadn't come before this mess.

Daryl was still a quiet man but that air of hostility had gradually softened as he became more comfortable in Quarry. It helped that he would often do odd jobs around the saloon, school house and even the sheriff's station when Rick needed it. Yet, except for Merle, he had not gotten especially close to anyone. Rick couldn't help but laugh a little remembering back when Andrea had tried putting the moves on Daryl. The one time he'd witnessed it, Daryl had looked like a frightened little boy being attacked by a tiger.

Watching him now interacting so freely with Carol and Sophia, it seemed right. He knew that technically it would be considered improper for such a recently widowed woman to be interacting with a man like Daryl but to hell with proper. The two of them had gone through a lot in their lives and if they could make each other happy, they both deserved it.

Looking around the room, he saw Dale, Otis and Patricia enter the barn and take seats in the back. The entire town was there now, except for Shane. Rick would have been surprised if the man made an appearance at this meeting so he wasn't going to wait for him. It was time to get started.

Stepping to the middle of the stage, he cleared his throat. All the chatter stopped. Lori gave him a reassuring smile, knowing he didn't love public speaking. He was grateful for that.

"Good afternoon everyone," he spoke loudly without shouting. The barn had good acoustics so his voice could be heard clearly, even in the back. "You all know me but just in case, I'm Rick Grimes. I'm your sheriff and it's my job to make sure everything runs smoothly in Quarry.

"Unfortunately, things have not been running so smoothly as of late. Most of you probably have heard rumors about several incidents and I'm here to inform you about exactly what is happening." Rick proceeded to lay out the specifics of the mutilated backpacker, the dead woman eating the bear, both of Tony's deaths, Dave's hanging and Ed's attack. There were gasps of horror from different sections of the room at different parts of the accounts. People would turn to those that had been involved and give supportive looks.

"Now that you all know the details, I am going to turn this over to Doc Greene. He is our resident expert on biology. Doc?" Rick nodded to Herschel, who took his place in the center of the stage.

"Hello, folks! I'm not going to beat around the bush here so I'll just jump right into what I need to say. I've done a thorough examination on each body and have determined that all of them died and then come back to life." This received much agitation from the crowd, even if most of them already knew it. It just became more real to have it spoken out loud by their resident doctor.

Herschel continued. "I know. It sounds crazy, even to me. But these are the facts. An Indian legend has been brought to my attention about a demon called the Wendigo. This demon inhabits a dead body and makes it come back to life. Except it isn't really alive but a monster with an insatiable hunger for human flesh. I don't know if I believe the myth about a demon but something unknown to me is clearly causing the dead to rise again. Initially, it was believed that the dead had to have been bitten or scratched to have the Wendigo infect them but after witnessing the deaths of those two criminals, it appears that any dead person can turn into one of these Wendigos."

Nodding at Rick and moving back to the side of the stage, Rick once again faced his fellow townspeople. "I need everyone to be extremely aware of their surroundings. It would be best if everyone stayed indoors at night and be with another person as much as possible. Keep yourselves armed, preferably with a gun but at the very least a knife. Aim for the head on these things. Shooting the body makes no difference. If someone does die or gets bit, seek help immediately. As most of you know, Shane Walsh is no longer a lawman in this town so I am it. Therefore, I cannot leave Quarry. The nearest telegraph station is in Woodbury, which is about a day's ride north. Randall, the young man who was kidnapped by the outlaws, is going to be making the journey there so we can send telegraphs to the authorities in both Denver and Santa Fe. I need a volunteer to accompany him."

The room was silent. Someone coughed. A lot of people were busy studying their shoes. Rick understood; people were afraid of this mysterious threat. They did not want to leave the safety of their homes. They did not want to leave their families unprotected. Yet, as sheriff and the only lawman in Quarry, he could not go himself.

"Damn it, I'll go with the kid!" said a familiar loud voice from the back. Rick saw Merle Dixon stand up. He was taken aback by this development. Daryl looked even more shocked at the prospect of his brother volunteering to help the town. Merle, ever the attention seeker, drew himself up proudly and smirked. "Hell, they'll probably be a bunch of those Wendigos on the way. I gotta take out a few more of those things. My brother's killed three of them and I've only gotten two. Gotta even up that score," Merle stated, pointing at his little brother. Daryl just shook his head and looked disgusted at his older brother's reasoning but he didn't say anything.

After a moment of recovery, Rick spoke again. "Thank you, Merle. We all appreciate you doing this. You can work out with Randall afterwards if you want to leave now or if you want to wait for tomorrow morning."

"In the meantime for everyone else, we know these things will also eat our animals, as evidenced by the carnage at this farm a couple weeks ago. If possible, put as many of your animals in secure locations to keep them protected. Does anyone have any questions or comments?"

"I do, Sheriff," spoke a clear, male voice from the entrance of the barn. The sun was behind him and all Rick could see was a black silhouette of the man. His voice was unfamiliar and Rick squinted trying to identify him. For some reason, Rick got a premonition of danger from that voice and it made him shudder internally.


	34. Chapter 34

Thanks so much to everyone who is reading this story. All of your comments, favoriting and following keep me going despite how crazy life is. Love you all!

Please be aware that The Fugitive Act of 1850 was real and I have to say that I was somewhat disturbed when I researched it.

I do not own The Walking Dead or The Twilight Zone but I love those who do.

**Chapter 34**

All heads turned back to the figure standing in the doorway of the barn. They watched with curiosity as the stranger strolled self-assuredly up towards the stage. He was fairly tall with a medium-build and brown hair. His clothes were well taken care of and his boots clean. There was a creamy white hat on his head and a sure smile on his face. He exuded confidence.

However, one specific feature stood out as the entire town studied this stranger: he wore an eye patch over his right eye. It wasn't the typical black cloth patch either. It was made of pliable leather the same creamy white color as his hat and embroidered with a red rose. Some may have argued that it was too fancy but it seemed to fit him perfectly.

He stepped up to the stage and tipped his hat to Rick, who eyed him with some suspicion. The last two strangers to enter Quarry had been quite destructive and that left the sheriff wary. The man did not seem to notice Rick's guardedness, turning to face the crowd.

"Good day, people of Quarry!" He said enthusiastically. His voice was clear and deep with just a touch of southern accent highlighting certain syllables. "Seems I have come at an interesting time for you all. Not sure what to make of these stories of people rising from the dead. I've been traveling through the territories as of late and can't say I've witnessed any such occurrences but I'll be sure to keep a look out." He paused and the room remained silent, still unsure of what this outsider wanted with them.

He continued, getting to the point. "My name is Phillip Blake and I have come a long way, from the great state of Georgia. I am tracking a very dangerous woman and I have reason to believe that she may have either come through here or be hiding here right now."

This elicited whispers and uncomfortable shifting in chairs among the townsfolk. A dangerous woman in their mists just added to the apprehensions in addition to everything that was going on. Unnoticed by those around them, Sophia grabbed Carl's hand and squeezed.

T-Dog stood up from his seat in the back, Andrea and Amy looking at him with surprise. The big black man had an unhappy look on his face. "Are you a slave hunter?" he yelled out angrily.

Phillip's smile fell for only an instant but then was right back in place, wider than ever. If you blinked, you'd have missed it. "Well, yes. I am a bounty hunter and this woman is a run-away from her master." This caused a great uproar in the crowd. Despite the fact that many of them were from the south, the town of Quarry had developed into a place of tolerance for their peers, no matter race. When the War Between the States was discussed, most of them identified with the North. Now that their friends and neighbors appeared threatened, the people were defensive and expressing their outrage.

Rick stepped closer to the man, putting a hand up to calm the restless group. It quickly quieted down for Rick to speak. "We do not abide by slavery in these parts. We all live peacefully together."

Phillip put a placating smile on his face, his hands up in an appeasing manner. He turned so that he was able to address both the sheriff and the people at the same time. "None of you has anything to fear from me. If any of you happen to be escaped slaves, that is not my concern. Your master hasn't contracted me, only hers. I am also not looking to sell any of you into slavery either. Those are despicable practices done by evil men. I am only looking for this one woman, who is extremely dangerous. She has stolen a very rare, very valuable Japanese sword from her master and used it to kill three men. If confronted, she will kill again."

People weren't sure how to react to such news. They were conflicted by their morals to stand up for those oppressed versus the fear of a new danger. They sat down, whispering among themselves again.

Sheriff Rick spoke up first. "If this woman comes to Quarry, we will make sure she answers for her crimes. However, the idea of sending her back to a slave owner does not seem appropriate."

Phillip's full attention was on Rick. "Doesn't matter what you feel is appropriate, Sheriff. The Fugitive Slave Act of 1850 has given me full authority to take this slave back to her master to be dealt with by him and his local authorities. While this may not be the great state of Georgia, these territories are under the control of the United States government and the Act is lawful."

Rick frowned, knowing the man was right. He could only hope that the woman had steered clear of Quarry. He had no idea that she was hiding right in his backyard.

Phillip addressed the crowd once more. "I have a picture of the woman and I ask that you all look at it carefully. Remember, she will kill if threatened," he warned as he held up a large picture of the thin black woman. The paper was creased and ripped in a few places but Carl and Sophia could certainly identify it as Michonne. Sophia's hand squeezed tighter and Carl's lips were pressed into a grim line. Nobody noticed, intent in the image before them.

"I will hopefully be staying in the local boarding house-" He was cut off by the loud snorting of Andrea, who was about to tell him where he could go because he certainly wasn't going to be staying at her boarding house. However, a stern look and a tiny nod from Rick silenced her. Rick hoped that if they treated the man respectfully, he would move on quickly away from Quarry. He tried to convey this silently to Andrea, who appeared to understand.

"We do have open rooms available," she said grudgingly. Then she added, "That is contingent on you being able to act civilly towards my bartender." Her head tilted towards T-Dog, who still looked defensive.

"Of course! As I said, I have no interest in anyone other than this woman. Everyone else is just folk to me," he said, smiling kindly. Both Andrea and T-Dog relaxed a little, although suspicion never completely left them. "If anyone has any information for me regarding this matter and you don't wish to broadcast it in front of all your peers, please see me at this lovely lady's boarding house."

With that, he left the stage and swaggered confidently out of the barn. All eyes watched him depart.

Rick shook his head and spoke up again. "Well, that was unexpected. With any luck, we won't have any trouble and he will just be moving on in a few days. If anyone does come upon this woman, alert me immediately. I hope that she just steers clear of Quarry. Everything else we discussed at this meeting still applies so stay safe everyone. This meeting is adjourned and have a good evening," Rick finished.

People started getting up from their chairs, talking and milling about. It seemed like after all the excitement, no one really wanted to leave the security of the group. Only slowly did individuals trickle out of the barn to get back to their daily lives. All of them wished the future to be uneventful compared to the last few weeks.

Carol took Sophia's hand and smiled at her daughter. "That was exciting, wasn't it?" she said, trying to lighten the mood.

Sophia dropped Carl's hand and gave him an apologetic smile. She really couldn't justify staying with him another night. It might even start to look suspicious and she definitely did not want to attract any attention to them. Besides, she really needed to make sure her mom was doing okay after the attack by her father yesterday. Luckily, Carl seemed to understand, nodding to her as the adults said their good-byes.

Daryl had already moved off towards his brother and they followed behind him. Merle had a smug look on his face, knowing Daryl wasn't happy about his decision to volunteer. Merle had one arm slung over Karen's shoulders and Noah was looking at Merle like he was a hero.

"What the hell are you thinkin'?" Daryl questioned him, still not completely over his shock.

"Just helpin' out the town, lil brother," Merle answered. "I won't be gone longer than two days. I know ya'll miss me but I'm sure ya'll find somethin' to do to occupy yer time." His eyes flicked to Carol. She glared at him then looked at Sophia, who didn't seem to acknowledge the comment.

"I think it's very brave," Karen stated.

Daryl's face was hard. "I think it's very stupid. When did you all of the sudden start carin' about this town?"

Merle looked thoughtful. "Since it started carin' bout me." His eyes went to Carol again and this time she gave him a small smile, understanding his meaning as her thoughts went back to their conversation earlier in the day. Then Merle smiled again. "'Sides, I didn't see nobody else speakin' up. I bet it'll be a borin' trip too, especially with only that kid along for entertainment," he said, glancing at Randall, who was talking with Rick. "Ain't no action when yur lookin' for it."

Daryl seemed to relent but he still grumbled, "Ya better not die out there."

Merle laughed hardily at that. "Wouldn't think of inconveniencing you like that, baby brother." Then Merle shouted over to Randall. "Hey kid, we head out tomorrow mornin'. I got stuff ta do tonight." He winked at Karen and then said loudly, "Who wants to buy me a drink?"

Amy, who was just getting ready to leave behind Andrea, answered him. "For volunteering, it's on the house, Merle!"

That had Merle nodding, mumbling to himself, "Hmm, I could get used to this selfless shit." With that, he, Karen and Noah left with Amy, Andrea and T-Dog.

Daryl turned back to Carol and Sophia. He was quiet, seemingly unsure of himself again. Carol took pity on him and spoke up. "You should go with them. Your brother seems like he's in a celebratory mood."

"Nah. Merle's in his element; got everyone's attention focused right on him. I'll see him off tomorrow mornin'," Daryl said.

Carol bit her bottom lip, mulling over a thought before just saying it. "Um, if you don't have anything else planned, we'd love to have you over for dinner. I'm making fried chicken," she offered. Then she quickly added, "But you don't have to unless you want to." She didn't want to seem too forward. Despite their intimacy yesterday, she wasn't sure how close he wanted her to get. Even though she knew beyond a doubt now that she wanted to be with him, she wasn't going to push him.

His lip quirked up on the left side and his eyes seemed to sparkle. "Fried chicken sounds good."

Sophia spoke up, "Oh, it is! Mom makes it the best." That earned her a full smile from the quiet man. They all started walking out of the barn, waving to various friends, and then made their way through town back to their farm on the other side.

As they were passing the little schoolhouse, Sophia heard her mom sigh as she looked at the closed up building. She frowned, thinking about all that had happened to stop them from getting to go to school. Then she glanced at Daryl.

"Mom, maybe Daryl should stay over again tonight, just to make sure dad doesn't come back again," Sophia said.

"No, honey, we can't ask that. Daryl has done enough for us already; it wouldn't be fair. Besides, there is no way that your father is ever coming back again," she told the girl.

"Actually, the kid has a point. May not be her daddy comin' back but there could be more of those things. I don't mind watchin' out," he said, already having intended to stay over. "On the sofa," he added, feeling like he'd only just recently had the same conversation that had resulted in a very nice experience for him. Not that expected that to happen again.

Carol gave him a big smile at his offer. Having him there would make her feel infinitely safer.


	35. Chapter 35

Warning: SMUT ahead! Please beware and travel at your own risk.

Wow, look how much I can write when I don't have to work!

I do not own The Walking Dead or The Twilight Zone but I love those who do.

**Chapter 35**

Carol sat in her bed, picking idly at the blankets. It was completely dark save for the tiny glow coming from the lantern at her bedside. The moon was only at about a quarter in size so its light was faint. It did not stop the chirping crickets from singing, the sounds wafting through her window on the gentle breeze.

She didn't know exactly what time it was but she believed it had to be well after midnight. She'd awoken from a dream that she couldn't remember. All she knew was that it had left her hot, bothered and had featured the man sleeping on her sofa downstairs. A heavy sigh escaped her.

Her mind drifted back to the first time she'd realized just how attracted she was to Daryl. It had been almost a year ago, around the time when Ed had started his odd behavior of going out into the fields without accomplishing anything. That was also when he had become more erratic and crueler with his moods. Carol had accepted long ago that she was stuck in a loveless marriage but when it had started to get dangerous for her and Sophia, that's when thoughts of escape began nibbling at her brain.

The water pump had broken for the first time, the handle frozen in place. Merle, who hadn't been working on the farm for very long at that point, had offered to send his brother out to fix it when Carol had mentioned it to him. She'd only known Daryl from the barest interaction at that point but not wanting to tell her husband, she'd accepted Merle's offer. She would rather pay Daryl's fee than bear her husband's annoyance at her.

He'd arrived just after the children had left for the day. She'd been sitting at her desk, supposedly grading papers. However, her mind had wandered and she'd been just staring out the window. His movements at the broken water pump had caught her attention. It wasn't a surprise that he hadn't checked in with her inside before he got to work because he was such a loner. She'd just figured that he would come find her after it was fixed to collect his payment.

She'd watched intently as he'd tested it, found the problem and set to work on mending it. He'd unscrewed some parts, examining them before cleaning them with the red rag he always had stuffed in his back pocket. She'd become mesmerized by his hands wrapping around the handle, trying to get it working again. His hands looked so strong. The handle had budged but then stuck again. He'd used another tool on the base of it and tried again. The handle had resisted for a moment but then grudgingly moved. It got easier as it slid down.

Carol hadn't been able to tear her eyes off the muscles bunching in his arms as he worked the handle up and down, up and down. A fine sheen of sweat had covered his body and it glistened in the sunlight. Her heart had been pounding in her chest and her breathing quickened when he'd leaned over to look at the pump where it entered the ground. An unexpected throbbing had grown between her legs and she'd squeezed her thighs together in an effort to stop it. This had brought a little whine from her lips with the added pressure.

She'd jumped a little when he'd straightened back up, tested the handle and fresh water had flowed readily from it. Then he'd turned toward the school house and Carol had a flash of fear that he might see her, might know what watching him had done to her body. Luckily, he'd been facing more towards the front where the door was and not through the windows at her. He'd looked nervous, chewing his thumb nail like he was unsure of what to do. It had made her think of a little boy who wanted to ask for something but sure he wasn't going to get it.

Carol had tried to control her breathing, sure that he would come in for his money and see her all flushed. Then he'd done something she didn't expect. He'd turned and walked away. He had just fixed her water pump and never asked her for anything.

She had been ashamed of herself for thinking of him in such a way. She was a married woman and felt old next to him. Since then, she had resolved that he would never know how she felt. He made it easy, never talking to her or hardly even looking at her. Getting the vibe that he did not like her, especially in that way, helped her to better associate with him. She was always kind to him, as she would be kind to anyone else. She wasn't sure what had made her offer to read him that Indian legends book but now she was glad she did.

Her mind skipped back to the night before and she couldn't help but to smile to herself. She'd never done anything so brazen in her whole life! The feeling of control was a heady one, something she had never had before. Ed had always been the one in control. She had to submit or else risk a beating. Hell, even when she did submit, she usually got a beating anyway. Trying to assert control, like she'd attempted early in their marriage, would only result in worse punishment. Yet, with Daryl, there was no threat of that. Sure, he'd bruised her wrist a little when she'd shamelessly gripped him, but she had been pushing him far outside his comfort range and she knew it was unintentional. It was such an exhilarating experience to be able to give him pleasure and not just have it taken from her.

She wanted him. There was no denying it. She didn't quite know how to go about getting what she wanted but she also had a feeling that he wasn't going to initiate anything on his own. She'd heard what Merle had said to him when she'd been hiding in his bedroom and knew just how inexperienced he was with intimacy. Even more than she was.

Taking a deep breath, she pulled the covers off her and made her way out of the room. She briefly checked on Sophia, who was sleeping soundly in her bedroom at the other end of the hall. For years, Carol had been thankful that her little girl was a sound sleeper. It had given her just a tiny bit of reassurance that her daughter could sleep through most of Ed's night time rampages. Carol closed the door carefully.

Pausing at the top of the stairs, she listened to the sound of his steady, rhythmic breathing as he slept on the sofa in the living room. Silently, she made her way down the stairs. She knew just where the squeaky step was and avoided it. In the living room, she paused again to observe him. He was sleeping so peacefully on his back, his chest expanding with each deep breath. His shirt and pants were still on but he'd removed his boots and socks and he was half covered with the blanket she'd given him.

Her feet moved towards him involuntarily and she hit one of the squeaky floorboards, making her wince. As a light sleeper, he reacted immediately, jerking upright. His eyes landed on her.

"What's wrong?" he whispered loudly.

She didn't say anything, just shook her head and took his hand. He resisted her for just a second as she tugged but then he threw the blanket off and followed her willingly up the stairs. He paused again when she crossed the threshold of her bedroom but she pulled a little more until he stepped through. She let go of him and shut the door. The little lantern still glowed on the bedside table, giving the room enough light for them to see each other.

Before she lost her nerve, she turned to him and pulled the ribbon holding her nightgown closed. It flowed open and she stepped out of it, the cottony fabric crimpling to the floor behind her feet. She stood before him, naked and exposed. She hoped she wasn't making a complete fool of herself.

He visibly gulped, his eyes roving over her body. His features appeared to be battling emotions of nervousness and lust. She took a step towards him and saw his eyes widen. The light in the room was not good enough to see them but she had a feeling his pupils were dilated.

"I want you, Daryl," she admitted to him.

He exhaled heavily, as if he had been holding his breath. "Carol, I don't know how to do this," he said, his voice rough. His eyes darted away from her.

She took another step towards him. "I can teach you," she said with more confidence than she actually felt. This was all new territory for her. "Do you want me too?"

His eyes were back to her, settling on her blue eyes. He nodded his head readily. He wanted to learn what she could teach him. She took another step forward, entering his space.

"Kiss me," she directed. He complied, leaning down to touch his lips to hers. It was soft and sweet, like their first kiss. Was that just yesterday? It seemed so long ago after so much had happened. They broke apart, standing in front of each other without touching. "Do you want to kiss me again?" she asked, her voice breathy.

He nodded once more then followed through with it. His kiss was not as gentle this time. It was hungrier as his tongue traced her mouth and he pulled her lower lip in between him. She opened her mouth for him and their tongues slid against one another. His mouth tasted like the vanilla pudding they'd had for dessert.

She realized that he still wasn't touching her anywhere else. She could see in her peripheral vision that his hands were practically hovering over her, like he wanted to hold her but he wasn't sure how with her being naked. Tenderly, she guided his one hand to her, laying it easily on her hip. He tensed a little but then went right back to kissing her passionately. His fingers moved slightly on her smooth skin before tightening and pulling her closer into him.

Next she took his other hand and placed it on her breast. This got a more significant reaction from him. He broke their kiss, looking nervous again. He didn't move his hand away though. In fact, he was starting to caress her ever so softly. His fingertip brushed across her nipple, causing it to harden. She whispered "Yes," relishing the sensation of it and feeling that throbbing in between her legs again.

He seemed to take this as encouragement, bringing the hand that had been resting on her hip up to cup the other breast. His rough thumbs rubbed over the nipples and she couldn't help but moan. Her own fingers traveled to the buttons on his shirt, unfastening them and pushing the unwanted cloth down his shoulders. He detached himself from her long enough to pull the shirt off and toss it across the room.

She wasn't sure if it was lust or that he was now more sure of himself but his arms went around her waist and he pulled her right up against him forcefully. She could feel the evidence of his want straining through his pants. His lips crushed against hers, his tongue exploring every aspect of her mouth. Her hands traced down his muscular back and she could feel the ripple of scars marring the flesh. Maybe someday she would ask him about them.

Slowly, she walked him backwards toward the bed and without breaking the kiss, she sat down on it. He stood over her, his mouth moving lusciously against hers. The throbbing intensified and she needed him closer to her. She pulled away from him and scooted backwards so that her whole body was lying flat on the bed, her head resting comfortably on the pillows. He gazed at her with utter desire.

"Take off your pants," she commanded him. He complied, leaving both the pants and his drawers in a pile in the floor. He stood naked before her, a beautiful specimen of masculinity. "Come here," she said, indicating the bed next to her. He climbed on, settling his weight beside her.

She reached to take him in her hand like she had last night but he evaded her. "No," he said sharply. "I ain't gonna last long if you do that," he told her and she knew it was true. She withdrew her hand, unsure of what she should do next.

Lucky for her, he started to act of his own volition. His mouth went to her neck and he was kissing and licking her tender flesh. His hand rested firmly on her stomach. After a minute or so, he moved higher, sucking her ear lobe into his mouth and she moaned again.

"Show me what to do for ya," he whispered, his hot breath on her ear. Her hand went to the one on her stomach and guided it lower. His palm brushed over the center of her and she spread her legs some for him. He took over, his pointer finger exploring her. He was hesitant at first but seemed to grow bolder as she spread her legs further for him. She hummed in pleasure when he dipped one finger inside her. Sensing she liked that, he added another finger and she hummed again, little louder.

Then he pulled his fingers out, not finished with his exploration of her. That was when he hit her bundle of nerves. Her hips bucked involuntarily as his fingers run over it. She hadn't expected that. He stopped, sensing this was significant. Experimentally, he ran his fingertip back and she bucked again, unable to keep a small whimper from escaping her.

Realizing this was the right spot, he focused completely on it. His finger stroked her and she felt like jolts of electricity were radiating from that tiny place right through her body. They were bombarding her brain with heat and she felt her back arching. There was a building of tension inside her that was delicious and she was writhing on the bed. He used his other hand to hold her still as his finger worked at her faster.

The tension hit a critical level and she felt like she was going to explode. Knowing that she was going to scream, she grabbed the pillow next to her head and shoved it against her face just in time. Waves of hot sensation washed over her and she cried out over and over again into the pillow. As she came down off the high, she pulled the pillow off her face, feeling like she couldn't breathe. A few whimpers issued from her before she got her voice totally under control again.

Daryl had rested his hand against her stomach once more. He looked like that little boy again, the one who wanted to please but wasn't sure he did it right.

"Was that okay?" he asked shyly.

Her hand touched his face lovingly. "Oh god, yes!" she told him enthusiastically. "It was…it was perfect. I've never felt it like that before." That got her a grin.

"Do you want to stop now?" he asked, unsure of himself a moment later.

Her eyes flew to him. "What? Stop? No." She leaned forward, kissing him deeply to show that she wasn't finished with him yet. He kissed her back greedily.

She pushed at him and managed to wiggle her body underneath him. He settled between her open legs and she could feel his hardness pressing against her. His mouth left hers, going to her breast and licking her nipple even harder. His tongue swirled around it.

"Please Daryl. I need you. I need you now, inside me," she urged him, her voice high and tight.

He pulled back a little from her, getting into a better position. Then he took a deep breath and moved forward. She could feel him penetrating into her. He was larger than Ed and she could feel herself stretching to accommodate his size. There was a moment of aching but no true pain and it was gone momentarily.

His breath exploded from him across her chest as he pushed all the way inside of her. He paused for a second and she saw him biting his lower lip, probably trying to keep himself under control. Then he began moving.

The sensation was different from what he had been doing to her with his finger. It was not quite as intense but it was deeper. She gasped as he pulled almost all the way out of her only to slam back into her body. Her head lulled back and her fingernails dug into his shoulders. It had never been like this before. He continued thrusting and she wrapped her legs around his waist, urging him to move faster into her. She felt the same tension building, only it was centered more inside her now.

His movements began to become jerky and irregular. She could sense that he was close, hanging on by a thread. He panted heavily as he crashed into her harder. She bit his shoulder, conscious just enough not to bite down too hard as her body exploded with pleasure again. She could feel herself clenching around him. She tried not to scream like she had before but a high pitched keening sound still came from her.

It took him. He moaned as he experienced his own ecstasy, emptying himself into her. They both lay there not moving, reveling in the intense bliss they were both experiencing. He then started to kiss her ever so gently. He was still inside her and she could feel little aftershocks of movement from him, which she could only describe as delicious. Then he pulled away and collapsed on the bed next to her.

"Was that okay?" she asked, mimicking him.

He smirked at her. "Yeah, that was okay," he laughed and gathered her in his arms. Together, they fell into sleep.


	36. Chapter 36

I just have to say that you all are awesome on here. Yesterday I got to have a wonderful dinner with the lovely mama2elves. We would never have met if not for this website. We must have talked for hours about The Walking Dead and Daryl/Carol. You never know where you might find a friend.

I do not own The Walking Dead or The Twilight Zone but I love those who do.

**Chapter 36**

Carl opened his eyes, more awake than he felt most mornings. He crawled out of bed and stood at his window. The sun was just starting to peek above the eastern horizon, chasing the darkness of night away. Carl smiled, glad that his plan had worked. Then he groaned in discomfort at his overfilled bladder.

Yesterday after the meeting, he'd had no chance to warn Michonne about the bounty hunter searching for her. His parents had been watching him like a hawk. He knew they were nervous about something happening to him but it was getting rather inconvenient. The most he'd been able to do was leave a few pieces of fruit at their designated drop sight for her when he'd thrown a fit over his mother wanting to walk him to the outhouse. Even if Michonne wasn't there, he probably would have thrown a fit about that anyway.

He hurriedly pulled on his clothes and shoes. Then he made sure that his parents were still sound asleep in their bed by just cracking their door and poking his head in. His dad had his arm around his mom in sleep and they were snuggled close together. He knew he probably should have been grossed out by the mushy cuddling but Carl was just glad to see his parents getting along again. For a while, it had gotten tense in the household but now that seemed to be blowing over.

Closing the door soundlessly, he rushed downstairs and gathered up biscuits, jerky and a large jug of water from the kitchen. After a quick stop at the outhouse to relieve his screaming bladder, he carried it all out to the old root cellar. He tapped lightly, waited a minute and then entered. She would not have answered the knocking if he had waited in case it had been someone else at the door.

Inside, the room looked empty but Carl laid out the blanket stashed by the wall and laid out the food. Then he lit the little lantern, casting flickering shadows around the small space.

"It's okay. It's just me," he said to the visibly empty room.

One of the shadows moved in a more deliberate fashion than the others. She emerged out of the darkness and walked slowly to him, nodding her head. "Where's your little friend?" she asked as she kneeled down and started munching on the biscuits. "Sophia?" The boy rarely came without the girl.

"Her dad died the day before yesterday so she had to go home last night to be with her mom," Carl explained.

Michonne's eyes wiped back to his, the hard bread paused before it got to her mouth for another bite. She was confused thinking about the happy little girl yesterday morning, supposedly the day after her father had died. "Did she not know yesterday?"

"Oh, she knew." Carl lowered his voice, almost like he was whispering a secret to her. "Sophia's dad was a bad man. A real bad man. He used to hurt her mom a lot and was even starting to hurt her some. She told me they were actually going to run away from Quarry so he couldn't hurt them anymore. I was gonna miss her something awful but then he died so she didn't have to leave!" His voice became very cheerful at the end.

Michonne contemplated this information. The sweet little girl who had basically saved her life was living under the thumb of an abusive father. Her opinion of Sophia instantly went up a notch. To stay that caring about others when one of the most important people in her life treated her cruelly was a testament to her high character. To Carl, she simply responded, "I'm glad she can stay." She went back to eating. The fruit he'd left the night before had helped but after being in a near constant state of starvation, she felt like she would never be able to eat enough to be full again.

Carl crouched down beside her, suddenly feeling nervous. "I have to tell you something important," he said in a very serious tone. It might have been comical if she wasn't on the run for her life. She nodded for him to continue. "Yesterday at the town meeting, there was a man there. He wasn't from Quarry and he wore an eye patch."

Michonne sucked in air, knowing he had found her. Frantically, she began shoving her meager belongings into her pack, intent on escape.

"Wait!" Carl grabbed her arm to still her but he let go immediately, seeing the dangerous look in her eyes. He didn't stop his argument though. "You can't leave now! He'll see you and then he'll get you. I doubt he'll find you in here, behind the sheriff's house." It didn't look like she was convinced as she stuffed the remaining food in her bag. Carl huffed loudly. "At least wait until tonight when it's dark out!"

That seemed to catch her attention and she froze, contemplating this. Then she put the pack down and nodded at him, accepting his logic.

"He's real bad, isn't he?" Carl asked warily.

She sat back down, the fight having gone out of her. "He killed my family."

Carl looked at her with sadness. "I'm sorry. He said you killed three men."

She shook her head. "He lied."

"I thought so," Carl answered, believing her. "What happened to his eye?"

"I was trying to kill him but I failed."

Carl nodded, not put off at all by her declaration of attempted murder. "Was that when he killed your family?"

She nodded, not meeting his eyes. "My brother and my niece. She was a little younger than you. Our master was cruel, like your friend's father. He wanted to take my niece into his bed and my brother wouldn't allow it, even if it wasn't his place to deny the master. We ran but that man, the Governor, tracked us. Shot my brother dead and then my niece when she tried to run. I used the sword."

"The Governor?" Carl frowned at the name.

"That's what the slaves call him. He can act like he's there to help you, all kind and helpful. But then when you let your guard down, he turns on you. He's got a black heart. Just like a political," she explained.

Carl pursed his lips before speaking again. "Don't worry. He won't find you." He sounded very sure of that.

**XXXXXXXXX**

Daryl had laid motionless in Carol's bed. He'd woken up some time before that as the sun came filtering through the curtains but he refused to move. He was savoring the peacefulness, listening to the birds' morning songs drifting on the breeze. His eyes were glued to her, watching her sleeping.

She looked so serene and beautiful in sleep. Not that she didn't always look beautiful but sometimes she seemed like she was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. He hoped that now that it was him with her instead of her asshole husband, she'd have less of a load to worry about.

He couldn't help but think back to the night before. He'd figured out pretty quickly what she wanted when she'd led him into her bedroom. Despite wanting her so badly, he'd been afraid that he'd fuck it all up. He wasn't suave or charming like Merle could be but Carol had been patient, willing to show him exactly what to do. God, the noises she made were enough to drive him crazy and the feel of her all around him was like bliss.

She shifted slightly in her sleep, bringing her arms across her chest. He saw the bruises on her wrist and felt a stab of guilt, knowing he was the one who'd put them there. He didn't care what she said about how minor they were compared to what Ed did to her. It wasn't ever going to happen again.

His hand twitched, wanting to touch her. He wanted to run his fingers through her short hair and across her cheek. He wanted to trace the curve of her chest and abdomen down to where her hip flared out. He wanted to kiss her hand then her wrist then her arm and just keep kissing her everywhere. Unfortunately, he knew how clumsy he was and he didn't want to wake her.

Instead, he climbed out of bed with as little movement as possible and pulled on his clothes. As he headed downstairs, he thought about Merle leaving to go to Woodbury. He wasn't concerned that he would miss his brother before he left. Judging by his mood the night before, Merle probably hadn't restricted his alcohol consumption so Daryl doubted he'd be leaving at the crack of dawn. There was time.

He crossed into the kitchen, figuring he'd grab some jerky then go out and tend to the animals. He knew Carol could do it but he figured he'd get it all done for her.

"Morning!" said a small but cheerful voice behind him.

He spun around and froze, the look on his face like a deer in the headlights (not that he'd understand that reference in this neighborhood of the Twilight Zone). Sophia sat at the kitchen table, a book and a bowl in front of her. He didn't know what to do. There was no way that she had not noticed that he wasn't sleeping on the sofa. Should he say something? Make up a story? Run out the door?

"Want some oatmeal?" she interrupted his thoughts, gesturing to her bowl. Her smile was sweet and innocent.

All he could do was nod a little. She leapt out of the chair, grabbed another bowl and spooned him out a generous portion of oatmeal from the large kettle hanging over the hearth. Then he watched her pour some honey over it and slid it across the table to him. He sat down stiffly and took the spoon she offered him. They sat in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the sweet meal.

Just as he was starting to relax, she spoke up again. "Hey Daryl, can I ask you a question?"

He was sure it was about his sleeping location and he could feel himself blushing at just the thought of it. There was no way he could answer her and he wished the ground would just open below his chair and swallow him down. He didn't move a muscle but she asked anyway.

"What do you think about slavery?" she asked, looking down at her bowl, not at his bright red face.

Daryl frowned, not expecting this question. "What?"

"What do you think about slavery?" she repeated, clear as a bell.

"It ain't right," he stated, shrugging.

"So you think the North is right? That there shouldn't be any slavery?" she questioned.

"Yep. Ain't right for any man ta own another," Daryl relaxed again, eating some more of his oatmeal.

"What about women? Aren't they owned by their husbands and fathers?" she asked. "Isn't that kind of like slavery?"

This conversation was getting into topics he'd never thought about before. "Shouldn't be but sometimes it is. Not that it makes it right. Some men think they're better than womenfolk, that they can control them and hurt them. It ain't right and some day they'll get what they deserve."

"Like my dad," she said solemnly. He nodded in agreement with her and then tried to pat her shoulder reassuringly. The gesture was ungainly but she smiled brightly at him.

As they emptied their bowls, he stood up. "Tell ya what," he said. "You feed the chickens and I'll take care of the cow. Help yer ma out a bit and let her sleep a little longer."

That seemed to make her happy and she nodded enthusiastically before running out the back door to the chicken coop. She finished that chore before Daryl could even get to milking Bessie, who was munching happily on the hay he had given her. She skipped into the barn and pulled the little milking stool over to the dairy cow.

"I know how to do it! My dad would never let me because he thought I'd mess it up but I really do know how." She hesitated and he sensed she was waiting for his permission.

"Fuck him. Do it." That elicited a giggle from the girl, who got right down to milking the cow. She was right, she did know what she was doing. He wondered how often she had snuck behind her father's back to learn the skill. Made him smile thinking about her tenacity.

Carol walked into the barn just as she was finishing up. "Good morning, you two. Doing all the hard work for me?" She winked at Daryl, which made him tongue-tied.

Sophia held up the half-full bucket of milk and started to walk out of the barn. Then she turned and eyed her mother, a frown on her face. "Mama, were you sad last night?"

Carol blinked. "Why ever would you ask that?"

"Because I thought I heard you crying in the middle of the night. Then when I woke up this morning, I found Daryl wasn't sleeping downstairs but his boots were still there. He couldn't have left without his boots so I thought maybe he went upstairs to make you feel better. Did he?"

The two adults just stared at her, not sure what exactly to say to that. Neither one of them could stop the hot burning enveloping their faces, making them look guilty of some crime. Sophia stared right back at them, expecting an answer.

Finally Carol relented. "Yes honey, he did," she simply said.

"Good." Sophia smiled sweetly at them and then walked out of the barn. Mission accomplished.


	37. Chapter 37

So is everyone excited about the fact that the TV gods are promoting this story? That's right! They are marathoning both The Walking Dead and The Twilight Zone for July 4th! Hope you all have a great holiday (or Thursday for those not in the US)!

I do not own The Walking Dead or The Twilight Zone but I love those who do.

**Chapter 37**

"There's ma baby brother, come to wish me off into the wild wilderness!" Merle shouted across the room. Daryl frowned as he came through the swinging doors of the saloon, not liking that all eyes were turning towards him. Merle didn't seem to care about making his brother uncomfortable as he continued shouting in his direction. "Here I was worried that you'd be too _occupied_ to say good-bye."

"Stop sayin' that," Daryl muttered under his breath, not meeting his brother's eyes. Only Carol, who'd come in behind him, was close enough to hear him. She tried to suppress a smile and only partially succeeding. Daryl threw her a look of exasperation. After the shock of Sophia's statement in the barn, the two of them couldn't help laughing. With Merle's comment, Carol was having a hard time hiding her amusement but she tried so as not to add cannon fodder to Merle's arsenal of torment for his brother.

Rick followed Carol into the saloon. Sophia had insisted on spending the day with Carl, even if that meant she missed Merle's farewell. It was a little odd because she knew Sophia was fond of Merle, even if Merle would deny any affection for the girl in a heartbeat. Yet, it was probably just because Sophia was very confident that Merle would be returning unscathed to Quarry. Rick had tagged along with them when they dropped Sophia off at his house.

Merle got up from the counter, where he had been sitting with Karen and Randall. Amy and T-Dog had given them free breakfast for their service to the town and Merle was loving every minute of attention. "So ya got any nice partin' words for me?"

Daryl snorted. "Don't get dead."

Merle laughed. "I think that's just about the kindest thing ya've ever said ta me, little brother!" With that, he pulled Daryl into a big bear hug.

Daryl froze, his eyes panicked and fixing on Carol. The giggle that Carol had been trying to keep under control came bursting forth, making Daryl frown and push Merle away. "What the fuck has gotten inta you?" Daryl growled.

"Can't a man hug his only brother before settin' out on a dangerous mission?" Merle jabbed his finger into Daryl's shoulder, who rolled his eyes.

"Yer only gonna be gone for two days," Daryl growled.

Rick, with an amused smile on his face, went over to Randall. The young man was just finishing a plate of eggs and biscuits. He scrambled up from the stool to his feet, practically saluting Rick. The sheriff motioned for him to sit back down, which he did but he still was tense, sitting on the edge of his seat.

"You ready for this?" Rick asked.

"Yes, sir," Randall nodded.

Rick handed him an envelope of containing a letter explaining their situation as well as a little money for the telegrams. "I've included enough there so that you can telegram your parents to let them know you are alright."

"Thank you, sir. I was planning on writing them a letter but this will be faster."

"You got the weapon I gave you?"

Randall pulled it out of the holster. "I cleaned it last night and have extra ammo just in case."

Rick nodded, smiling at the man. He seemed so serious about this mission, even if it probably wouldn't be nearly as exciting as his kidnapping. Rick tilted his head towards Merle. "You going to be okay with him?"

Randall opened his mouth to respond but Merle got to him before any words could come out. "Don't you worry, Sheriff!" He threw his arm around Randall's shoulders and pulled him roughly against his side. Randall almost fell over. "I'm gonna take good care of the kid. Won't let nothin' happen ta him out there."

Daryl just shook his head. Merle was really getting out of control. Rick chuckled and then he and Randall went out the back to the stables to get the horses ready.

Merle turned and kissed Karen full on the lips. "You be a good girl while I'm gone," he told her.

She smacked him on the chest. "I'm always a good girl," she said coyly.

Merle then looked at Carol. "You be a good girl too." He spun around to leave but then seemed to reconsider, twisting his head back to Carol. "On second thought, you be a bad girl. Show ma innocent-ass brother a few things," he said and winked at her.

"Damn it, Merle. Will ya just leave already!" Daryl spat out in frustration.

Carol merely laughed a little and shook her head at Merle's comment. "Good-bye and good luck out there."

Merle nodded to her, gave Karen one last appraising look and then went out the door to the stable.

Andrea came down the stairs then, her eyes on Carol. When she reached the bottom, she motioned to Amy. "Get Daryl a free cup of coffee." Then she clutched Carol's hand and practically dragged the woman upstairs. Daryl shrugged, accepting the free hot beverage from Amy.

Slamming the apartment door shut, Andrea turned on Carol. "Spill it!" she said fiercely.

Carol nodded, reaching into the pocket of her dress and withdrawing the money Andrea had given her. "Obviously now that Ed's gone, I won't need to take this from you. Just know that it meant more to me that you'd be willing to give it than anything in world."

Andrea's face softened, accepting the money back. "You know I would have given you more if I could have. I'm so glad your staying though." She smiled warmly at her friend.

"Me too. I should probably give you this back too," Carol said as she reached up to unclasp the heart necklace.

Andrea put her hands on Carol's shoulders. "No, I want you to keep it. My parents gave it to me and I am still giving it to you, my best friend." Carol thought she was going to cry over the tender sentiment but then Andrea's hands tightened on her shoulders. Her face became intense. "Now spill about Daryl Dixon."

"Oh, is that what you meant?" Carol said innocently, like she had no idea what Andrea was talking about.

Andrea made a noise of aggravation. "Don't you play dumb with me, Carol. I saw him holding your hand the other day after you had to kill Ed. Then I see you come in with him and Merle to the meeting yesterday. And again this morning you're with him! The last time we talked, you told me that he hated you because you kissed him on the cheek. Now you're always together? What is going on between you two?"

Carol sighed, pulling Andrea's arms off her shoulders and slumping down on the sofa. "I guess you could say we're together. I don't know really. We haven't actually talked about that. It all happened so fast. Some people are going to think I'm a whore for even being around him so soon after my husband's death."

"Screw them. Those people don't know you. They didn't know Ed either. I want details. Right now," Andrea demanded.

Carol couldn't help but grin at her friend's eagerness. "I was packing, getting ready to escape him when Daryl comes right into my bedroom. I almost split his head open with a fireplace poker because I thought he was Ed. Then he told me that Sophia and I were coming with him, that he would protect us. Then he…kissed me."

Andrea got a confused look on her face. "Daryl Dixon kissed you." She said the words slowly, as if she needed more time to process that information. Then it clicked and her eyebrows shot up. "Oh my god, Milton was right! What changed? Why did he all of the sudden decide to practically confess his love for you?"

Frowning, Carol tried to think of the time between when he ran out on her for kissing him and when he came for her at the house. She shook her head. "Nothing I know of."

"Doesn't matter," Andrea said quickly. "So tell me about the kiss. Was it wonderful?"

"Oh, Andrea. Being with him is everything I was missing with Ed."

Andrea's eyes widened and she stared at her friend. "You slept with him, didn't you?" Andrea pressed, her tone incredulous.

Carol's mouth gaped open. "How can you possibly know that?"

Andrea's smile became smug. "I can tell. You glow when you talk about being with him. That means it was good, right?"

"So good," Carol breathed out. "I never knew how good it could be until now," she confessed.

Andrea's body sagged into the sofa. "I'm jealous," she declared. "Milton and I have been dancing around each other ever since he came to town. He's been so sweet and attentive but now that Amy is better, I just want him to rip my clothes off. I'm not sure if he's ever going to get up the guts to do it though. You're lucky that Daryl did."

"Um…"

"What?" Andrea peered at her questioningly.

"It wasn't exactly Daryl who got the guts up to…start things." Carol looked away shyly.

"You? Sweet, innocent Carol lured that tough redneck into her bed?" Andrea questioned.

"Well, he kissed me. And then he saved my life. And then he let me stay with him at his house because I was too afraid to stay in my house alone. I had to thank him. I may have thanked him twice if you count last night too," Carol said mysteriously.

"Oh my god! Who would have ever thought you were such a shameless vixon!" Both women dissolved in giggles. When Andrea finally caught her breath, she said, "I'm going to have to try something like that on Milton before he decides to leave. I bet I could convince him to stay a while."

"I bet you could. You can be very persuasive," Carol agreed and they both laughed again.

**XXXXXXX**

Rick sipped at his coffee, wincing a little at the bitterness of it. He kept drinking it though, wanting to be as awake as possible for the day. There was no way to tell what might happen next in Quarry.

Daryl shifted on the stool next to him, finishing up his own cup of coffee.

"So you're helping Carol out?" Rick asked nonchalantly.

Daryl glared at him suspiciously, like Rick was trying to trap him with such a question. When he saw no malice or amusement on Rick's face, he relaxed a little and nodded.

"Good. Carol needs a man like you helping her out. Ed was a shitty husband," Rick remarked and then drank another gulp from his cup.

"He was an asshole," Daryl noted, agreeing with Rick.

The doors swung open across the room. Sophia and Carl rushed into the room, straight for Rick and Daryl.

"What are you two doing here alone? Where's your mom?" Rick questioned them anxiously.

"She just across the street at the General Store. She watched us cross the street," Carl explained.

"Did we miss Merle and Randall? I wanted to say good-bye," Sophia whined a little.

"Ya shoulda done that insteada goin' ta Carl's house. Ya missed 'em," Daryl scolded her. Rick could not help but hide a smile at how close to a parent Daryl sounded with Sophia.

The two children climbed up on the stools next to them. T-Dog came over, beaming at them. "You kids want some milk?"

"Yes, please," Sophia responded sweetly and Carl nodded in agreement. T-Dog brought them each back a fresh cup of milk. After a drink, each kid was pointing at the other's milk mustache before they both dissolved in giggles.

Suddenly, the laughter cut off as Carl spotted a figure coming down the stairs and both kids watched entranced as Philip Blake took the last stool next to them. An astute observer would almost classify their expressions as fearful.

Philip motioned to T-Dog, a pleasant smile on his face. "Barkeep, do you have tea?" T-Dog nodded and went to brew it. He didn't look happy but he kept his mouth shut. In the meantime, Philip turned to size up the two children staring at him. He ignored the two adults on the other side of him that were also staring at him. "Beautiful morning, children. No school today?"

Sophia dropped her eyes quickly. "No, sir. It's closed because of the Wendigos," she answered nervously.

"Uh huh," he mused. T-Dog brought the tea and Philip sipped it carefully. "Mighty fine tea," he complimented T-Dog, who ignored him.

Carl never stopped staring at him. "What happened to your eye?" the boy blurted eye.

"Carl!" Rick snapped. "That's rude."

"It's alright, Sheriff. The boy's just curious." Philip smiled and turned his one eye back to Carl. "Lost it in the war, fighting for the Confederacy. Got hit with some shrapnel from a Union cannon ball. Couldn't be a soldier anymore so I became a bounty hunter."

Carl didn't respond. They knew he was lying but Sophia was clutching his hand almost painfully to stop him from saying anything that might give away their secret.

Philip just smiled at them, his face as sweet as poisoned fruit. "Even without my eye, I can find anyone that's hiding from me," he assured them.


	38. Chapter 38

Happy July 4th to all the Americans reading this! Happy Thursday to all those who are not! I've got my Twilight Zone shirt on and enjoying the marathon. The Walking Dead marathon is coming on in about an hour. Later I am headed to the movies to see World War Z. Bliss…

I do not own The Walking Dead or The Twilight Zone but I love those who do.

**Chapter 38**

Andrea stopped outside the closed door, balancing the tray of food on one arm. She carefully smoothed down her wild blonde hair and checked to make sure her peasant blouse showed off just the smallest amount of cleavage. She took a deep breath, preparing herself for the plan she had in her head.

After her conversation with Carol earlier that day, she decided she was finished playing this silly little game with Milton. Never in a million years would she have thought that the shy schoolmarm would have lured the feral man into her bed. Yet, Carol had gotten the courage to accomplish the task with Daryl and it was giving her the nerve to follow her friend's lead.

Quarry had become an unstable place, with the undead rising and outlaws invading. She had been sick with worry about Amy and Milton had stood by her through the whole ordeal. He supported her emotionally, made sure she was fed and forcing her to sleep at least somewhat. Now that things had settled down in her own brain with Amy making a full recovery, it was time to show him just how much his caring meant to her.

It had taken most of the day to work up the guts to go to him. He'd sequestered himself in his room, writing for hours on end. He hadn't even stopped for lunch so Andrea decided by the late afternoon it was time for him to take a break. She had a small meal ready for him as a pretense for interrupting his work.

She knocked lightly on the door. Upon hearing his voice invite her in, she opened the door and carried in the tray.

"You missed lunch so I figured you could use a little break," she told him as she laid the tray of food down on the side table.

He smiled kindly at her then took off his spectacles and massaged the bridge of his nose. There was a large mountain of paper piled on one side the desk, all of it apparently written on. He'd been busy.

"Thank you Andrea. I think you may be right. I completely lost track of the time," Milton said, replacing his spectacles on his nose. He grabbed the bowl of broth, sipping it hungrily. "Mmmm, this is delicious. Did you make this?"

She smiled brightly, settling down on the edge of the bed. "Yes. My mom passed us down quite a few good recipes. How's the writing coming?"

He finished the soup and crunched into the big, red apple. It was juicy and he had to suck in the fluid quickly to keep it from dripping out of his mouth. Andrea couldn't help but to lick her lips watching him.

"Good," he said as he finished chewing a chunk of apple. "I still want to talk with Daryl Dixon about his Sioux tribe experiences. I am holding out hope that he might even introduce me to them." He took another bite of apple.

"He tends to be a quiet one and wary of strangers but he's gotten very close with my friend Carol so we might be able to convince him through her," she told him slyly.

"Carol, the school teacher, right?" Andrea nodded. "She was a very nice lady. Her husband was…difficult. I'm glad she has friends like you and Daryl to get her through such a difficult time." He finished the apple, laying the core in the empty bowl.

Andrea knew it was now or never. He was finished eating, probably ready to get back to work and if she didn't act quickly, it would become awkward. So before he could fully comprehend what she was doing, she crossed the room and sat down in his lap.

He instantly went rigid, his eyes wide as saucers behind his glasses. She kissed him, pressing her mouth to his. He didn't respond, just sat there stiffly except for his hands curling around the arms of the desk chair. She moved her lips against his, hoping to elicit a response but none came.

Deciding suddenly that she was making herself look like an idiot at best or a whore at worst, she broke the kiss. "Sorry, this was a mistake." She jumped off his lap and made for the door, trying not to cry at her own stupidity. Before she had taken two steps, he caught her hand unexpectedly and pulled her back into his lap. She felt like she landed on him hard but he didn't even flinch.

"I don't think that was a mistake," he said softly. "I've wanted to kiss you since I met you. I just wasn't prepared for it. You're such a beautiful, lively, intelligent woman and I know I can be such a bore. Can we start over?"

Andrea pressed her lips together and nodded, still trying to hold back those tears that had been threatening. Then she leaned forward and kissed him again. This time he responded, his lips meeting hers. His hands came off the arms of the desk chair, one curling around her waist and the other settling lightly on her knee.

It was nice and sweet, just kissing him. She flicked her tongue against his lips and his tongue came out to meet hers. His fingers tightened a tiny bit on her knee and she was surprised that even that little pressure could be so stimulating. She made a little moan, which he seemed to like as he deepened the kiss.

Out of nowhere, a deafening bang splintered through the room. The two of them leapt out of the chair, knocking into the desk. A stack of papers shifted and fell. Some of the pages caught a draft and wafted across the room, spreading papers everywhere. Neither of them noticed.

Their attention was focus solely on the small hole in the floor. It had a tiny wisp of smoke curling up from it. Andrea's eyes moved to the ceiling and Milton's followed her gaze. A matching hole was directly above the one in the floor.

Andrea could feel the bile rising in her stomach as her anger soared. "Who the hell is shooting up my saloon?" she yelled as she ran for the stairs. Milton was right behind her.

**XXXXXXXX**

T-Dog cursed under his breath when he saw Shane walk in the door. Well, it wasn't so much a walk as a stagger. The man barely made it to the stool at the very end of the bar and seemed uncoordinated as he climbed on it. He swayed slightly as he used both hands on the bar to steady himself. Shane was most definitely drunk.

The place was already starting to fill up in the late afternoon, as it usually did after work was done. People were tending to come in earlier the last few weeks because they wanted to leave before it got too dark. Strange things were coming out in the dark around Quarry but that didn't mean folks didn't want to still be social. As always, Axel, Oscar and Martinez were off at the large table playing cards. T-Dog wondered if they missed Ed, not because he was their friend but because he lost a lot of money to them. Herschel was back at the piano, a favorite spot for him. No one was dancing so he played a sweet little melody. His daughter Beth and her beau Jimmy were holding hands at one of the nearby tables. Even the Jones family was there, a rare occurrence. Although, he'd heard a rumor that Morgan was a fan of Andrea's chicken soup and Jenny indulged him in dinner there whenever she made a pot of it. Dale was at his usual table in the corner, nursing a cup of tea while reading a book. He'd been allowing Glenn the responsibility of closing the shop for a couple months now. The farrier, his daughter and her son were at the table closest to the door and they eyed Shane warily as he came in.

T-Dog had witnessed the scene between Shane and Rick after the hanging. He agreed with Shane that Dave had to hang, especially after what that bastard had done to Amy. However, he hadn't blamed Rick for firing the guy after going off on his own like that. Especially if Shane had had an idea that Dave was going to turn into one of those monsters after he died. It made him shudder just thinking about it how the dead man moved, reaching out for them.

Shane slapped his hand down on the bar. "Whiskey," he said.

Amy went to move past T-Dog towards Shane but he put up a hand to stop her. She had just come down from a nap and even though she said she was all better, he knew she was not quite at par yet. She didn't need Shane's crap right now.

"Let me deal with him," T-Dog said quietly. "I think Dale needs a refill of his tea," he redirected her. Normally, he knew she would argue with him, always wanting to appear tough and able to handle anything. Yet, this time she relented.

T-Dog grabbed the whiskey bottle and a shot glass, pouring a small amount for Shane. The moment he put it in front of the man, Shane shot it down and slammed the glass back on the bar.

"Another," he demanded.

"Man, it's obvious you've already had a few. I think you better slow down," T-Dog directed him.

"Another," Shane repeated, his eye dangerous on the big bartender.

T-Dog shook his head, pulling the whiskey bottle back. "Nope, you're done."

Shane's eyes narrowed on him. Then he reached back and pulled his gun out of the holster. He placed it on the bar, his hand on the handle but his finger off the trigger.

"I ain't gonna ask again," Shane stated, malice dripping off his voice.

T-Dog read the imminent threat and got a larger glass, pouring a generous amount of whiskey into it. He looked up as Shane drank it, his hand never leaving the gun. The farrier and his family were watching the whole scene intently. The big man whispered something to Karen and she nodded, motioning Noah to get up with her. They headed for the door.

Before they could get to the exit, Shane spun around and aimed the gun right at them. "Sit back down!" He stood up, wobbling a little and waved the gun around. "Nobody's goin' anywhere!" he yelled at the crowd in the room. The piano stopped playing and had everyone's attention. Then the gun discharged, firing a round right up into the ceiling above him. For a split second, even Shane looked surprised but recovered quickly. He spun around towards T-Dog and Amy behind the bar. "Hands up! Get away from that shotgun," he commanded them.

Seeing the wild look in his eye, the two of them complied. He waved them over with the gun to the other side of the room, where the rest of the crowd was standing. Everyone seemed to cringe back away from the moving pistol, which they all feared would go off again at them.

Andrea and Milton appeared at the top of the stairs, taking in the scene. Shane pointed the gun at them. "Stay right there!"

"Shane, what the hell are you doing? You put that pistol down right now before you hurt someone!" Andrea screamed at him.

"Shut up, Andrea! This is my town and I'm taking it back," he declared.

The tinkling sound of happy laughter floated through the front door and the gun swung in that direction. Maggie stopped short halfway through the swinging doors, the smile on her face instantly dropping. Glenn ran into her, pushing her body through the swinging doors. His face was serious as well, seeing the sun practically in their faces.

"Farmer's daughter, get over there with your papa and sister." Maggie blinked then looked at Glenn. He nodded at her and she scurried over to her family. Shane watched but kept the gun trained on Glenn. "Hey, yellow man, I've got a job for you."

Glenn gulped heavily, hoping there was some way he could get his fellow townspeople away from the insane ex-deputy.


	39. Chapter 39

I got to see "World War Z" and for any zombie fans reading this (okay, if you are not a zombie fan, I am interested to know what drew you to watching The Walking Dead in the first place?), go see it! I thought it was a very well-done zombie movie. Brad Pitt put on a great performance. Loved seeing my home city of Philadelphia shown first. While it doesn't beat out "28 Days Later" as my favorite zombie movie, it ranks right up there.

I do not own The Walking Dead or The Twilight Zone but I love those who do.

**Chapter 39**

Rick struggled against his eyes closing and his head nodding forward uncontrollably. He snapped his head back, opening his eyes wide and shaking himself to try to stave off the total exhaustion he was feeling. Without Shane, all the responsibilities of protecting Quarry had fallen on his shoulders. He was at the station almost around the clock and he wasn't sleeping well when he was able to grab a few hours. His head would fill with nightmares of people he knew turning into wendigos and trying to bite him.

The worst nightmare he'd had so far had been of little Sophia changing into one of those monsters. She'd been bitten in the neck and her face was a gruesome mask of her normally pretty features. Her mouth had been twisted in a snarl as she came for him. She'd been in a barn, which kind of looked like the hay barn on the Peletier farm but the dimensions hadn't been quite right. It was a quality of dreams all people experienced. As she'd gotten closer and closer to him, he knew he had to stop her before she attacked him. He'd put a bullet through her forehead, dropping her to the ground.

He'd awoken with a cry, cold sweat covering his body. Lori had woken with him but he refused to tell her what the nightmare had been about. Yet, ever since then, he'd been glad of, and even encouraged, all the time Sophia had been spending over at their house. He felt like he could better protect her with her so close. Not that he didn't think Carol could do the job. She had proven herself to be a strong and able woman in the past few weeks. Plus he had high hopes that Daryl would make a far superior replacement than her father had been as a male figure in the girl's life.

However, with Sophia safely here with Carl, he felt it gave Carol a chance to try to save her failing farm from ruin. Not only that but Sophia was a good influence on Carl. She could easily convince him to do tasks that needed to get done without half the fight the boy would have given him or his mother. In the back of his mind, he had the impression that some day in the future, the little girl would become his daughter in marriage. It made him more determined to ensure that his nightmare never came true.

"Dinner won't be ready for at least another half hour," Lori said, breaking him out of his thoughts. "Why don't you take a little nap? You look so tired. The children are playing in the backyard and know not to take a step further," she assured him.

He nodded at her as she went back into the kitchen. He'd come home from the station for a home-cooked dinner. Nothing overly exciting was happening at the moment and everyone knew where he lived in case of emergency. He felt like he deserved at least that small pleasure of time with his family.

He settled his long, lean body into the corner of the sofa, allowing his muscles to relax. However, before he could even close his eyes, a frenzied knocking sounded on his front door. "Sheriff!" came a frantic voice. Rick wrenched the door open, revealing Glenn standing on his porch. The man was sweating and panting, his face grim.

"Glenn?"

The young Asian man gulped thickly, trying to control his breathing. "It's Shane," he choked out.

"Shane?" he heard Lori come up behind him. She was absently drying her hands on a dishtowel but her full focus was on Glenn.

Glenn nodded. "He's gone crazy! Taken everyone in the saloon hostage! Like half the town's there. Says you have to come to him or else he's going to start shooting people."

Lori gasped, her hand covering her mouth. "Shane wouldn't do that," she whispered. It didn't sound like she was completely convinced by her own statement.

"I'm not lying, I swear. He put a gun right to my face. Made Maggie go inside with her father and sister to ensure I came back with you. He's out of his mind!" Glenn shouted.

Rick's mind was already working in overtime. "Glenn." The younger man wasn't paying attention, just staring off towards the center of town. It looked like he was going to bolt back there any moment. "Glenn!" Rick shouted, getting him to look back. "You got your piece on you?"

Glenn shook his head. "Don't got one. Been saving up to get one, especially since all this dangerous stuff keeps happening. Want to be able to protect my girl, you know? Haven't got quite enough money together yet."

"Well, today's your lucky day. You're getting one for free. We'll stop at the station on the way to the saloon. Lori, you stay here with the children. Get them inside," Rick stated with authority.

"No!" Glenn interrupted him. "Shane specified that Lori had to come too. He was adamant that she be there. I think he might kill people if she doesn't come." He gave them both an apologetic look.

"Absolutely not," Rick said, his voice seething.

"Rick." Lori's voice on the hand was calmer, urging him to listen to reason. "It's not worth someone else getting shot. I've got the protection you gave me." From her pocket, she drew out a small pistol.

They could all see the war of emotions playing on Rick's face as he looked from the gun in his wife's hand up to her face. "Okay," he ground out between gritted teeth. "But you are staying right behind me. You are _not_ going inside that saloon."

Lori nodded. "Let me get the kids inside. I'll meet you outside the station."

Rick didn't look happy but he agreed. Then he and Glenn moved quickly off the porch towards the station.

Lori ran through the house and jerked open the back door. She didn't see the children in the backyard and for a split second, her heart skipped a beat. "Carl! Sophia!" she screamed for them.

"Here!" she heard Carl's voice was way back in the yard. Even though it was only about ten seconds, it felt like an eternity before they came into view.

They better not have been in that old root cellar, she thought. The whole structure was unstable and could fall on their heads inside there. Not enough time to discuss it now though. She motioned for them to hurry into the house and they picked up the speed.

"Dad and I have to go out. You two must stay in the house. Do you hear me? You are not to leave this house for any reason. I mean it Carl. You'll be grounded until you're thirty if you dare take one step outside. Do you understand?" Lori pressed into them. The kids were wide-eyed, nodding their heads affirmatively.

"What happened?" Carl asked.

"I have to go. I promise we will tell you when we come back," she assured him. Then she kissed him lovingly on the forehead, gave Sophia a matching little kiss on the top of her blond head and was gone.

Outside the station, right across from the saloon, the three of them met up again. The saloon looked peaceful through the windows, although eerily quiet. A number of people could be seen through the windows. It was strange how still they were, not talking, drinking or eating. The only one who was moving was Shane. He must have been pacing because he would come into view of one of the windows and then move out of sight again. He pattern repeated over and over again. Sometimes it looked like he was swinging the gun around hap hazardously.

"Glenn," Rick whispered. The Asian man held his new gun firmly, waiting to hear the sheriff's plan. "I want you to go around the back. If it looks like he's going to shoot anyone, I want you to shoot him first."

"Rick!" Lori breathed out in shock.

"No Lori. This is how it has to be. The man's gone crazy and he's endangering the lives of everyone. If I can't talk reason into him and he tries to kill someone, we've got to put him down," Rick explained, his tone calm now.

Lori's face was miserable. Her hand went to her throat but she nodded silently, understanding his reasoning."

Rick faced Glenn again. "You think you can handle that?"

"Yes, sir." Glenn then slipped off into the growing shadows, silent like a ninja.

"You stay right behind me," Rick reiterated to Lori and then they moved to just outside the swinging doors of the bar.

"Shane!"

The dangerous man paused in his back and forth motion. He smiled, his grin looking like a wolf's about to eat its prey. "Rick."

"Shane, you need to let these people go. They haven't done anything to you. It's me you want. Isn't that right?" Rick's voice was steady, although there was just a touch of pleading underlying it.

Shane's face turned red with rage. "I want you gone! That's what I want! Everything that was supposed to be good in my life's been taken by you. I should be sheriff; I'm smarter and stronger than you. I can make the hard decisions. You can't! And Lori. She said that if you weren't here, she'd be mine!"

"That's not what I meant! Rick, baby, please believe me. I would never leave you for him!" Lori begged him in a high-pitched tone, clutching at his shoulder.

Rick put his hand on hers to hush her. He'd deal with that information later but right now he needed to get Shane out of the saloon.

Suddenly, Shane whirled around to the back window, the gun discharging loudly. The upper glass pane shattered, the shards of glass crashing to the ground outside.

"I know you're out there Glenn! You'd better drop that gun and get your ass in here before I put a bullet into your girl," Shane warned, swinging his pistol to Maggie. They all heard the dull sound of the metal hitting the dirt and then Glenn slowly opened the back door. His eyes were fearful but also pissed off at being discovered. "You stay right there, chink," Shane threatened him.

Rick cursed under his breath. There went his back-up plan. "Shane! What do you want?" Rick asked him directly.

"A draw. You and me. In the street with all these nice people watching right now."

"You sure about that Shane? It's starting to get dark out here. You sure you don't want to sober up a little first? We could do this in the morning," Rick suggested.

"Shut the fuck up! I said now!" Shane roared. He pulled the trigger again, the bullet hitting the wall just over Dale's head. Most of the people hit the floor of the saloon, worried that one of those random shots might find them.

Rick put his empty hand up in surrender. "Okay, Shane. You want a draw now? Fine. Let all the people stay in there; they can watch from the windows. You come out and we'll draw."

Shane smiled again and walked out the swinging doors. He paused, addressing the townspeople once more. "Remember, when I'm done with him, this town is mine so you people better be respectful when I come back in here."

Rick had pushed Lori behind a large water barrel, giving her at least partial coverage. He moved out into the middle of the road. His piece was in the holster at his hip, as were the rules of a draw. Shane moved out into the road as well, a good twenty paces away from Rick. His gun was also back in his holster.

For a moment, they just stood there surveying each other. Their shadows were long as the sun was beginning its descent to the west. Rick was calm and steady, even though his heartbeat was pounding in his ears and sweat gathering under his hat. Shane, however, was not looking as good. Even though the adrenalin had overridden most of the effects of the booze in his system, he was still not in good shape. His eyes were glassy and his skin a feverish red. He was sweating worse than Rick, little rivers of it flowing down his face. He quickly swiped his arm across his forehead.

"We don't have to do this. We can find another way," Rick offered Shane once more. He wasn't afraid for his life. Technically, Shane was a faster draw than he was but the other man's aim was crap. Rick was more concerned about him hitting one of the innocent bystanders.

"There is no other way," Shane responded, his tone hard. He shifted his vision to Lori. "Hey there, beautiful. Would you say the word?" he asked her sweetly.

Lori looked like she was going to be sick. Rick gave her the smallest tilt of his head, communicating that she should do it. Lori straightened up, her face intense. The men tensed their bodies, hands just an inch from their holsters. Lori drew in a deep breath.

The loud bang of a gunshot echoed around the buildings. All three of them blinked in confusion. Both Rick and Shane still had their guns holstered. Then Shane looked down at his chest. A hole ringed with red had appeared in his shirt. They watched as the red stain grew, enveloping more of the fabric and dripping down. Shane looked back up at Rick and the sheriff thought he might have seen some regret in the ex-deputy's eyes before he fell down.

Behind him stood the bounty hunter, Philip Blake. His gun was still up, a wisp of smoke curling away from the hot muzzle. He blew it off then stuck the pistol back in his own hip holster. "Looked like you needed some assistance there, Sheriff. Didn't seem like you were a willing participant in that draw, considering all your people he had as hostages."

Rick released a huge breath he'd been holding, unable to take his eyes off Shane's unmoving form. Part of him was glad it was over, that the only person who suffered was the perpetrator of this crime. However, it was hard seeing this man who he'd considered to be his best friend for so long lying dead in front of him. He could hear Lori crying behind him. A few of the braver souls came out from the saloon.

Philip toed Shane's body. It was a gesture of complete disrespect. "He seems pretty dead. You still think he's going to come back to life, possessed by one of those demons?" he asked. His attitude was mocking, not believing the myth of the wendigo. He pulled his foot away from the growing pool of blood developing around Shane as he bled out.

The mention of the wendigo snapped Rick out of his shock. "Yes," he stated firmly, pulling his gun out. "We need to shoot him in the head to stop it."

"How long does it take?" Philip asked, peering down at Shane's unmoving form.

"Not long," Rick said, stepping closer to finish the job.

Philip put a firm hand on Rick's chest, halting his forward movement. "I want to see it."

"No, they are dangerous creatures. He could hurt any of the people here, kill them," Rick urged him, trying to push past the taller man.

Philip shoved him back, his one eye narrowed on Rick. "I want to see it," he repeated. The two men stared at one another, a battle of wills raging between them.

The stalemate was ended quickly by the twitching of Shane's foot. A sigh came from the dead man and his mouth began to move. Rick could hear the sounds of people moving back, anticipating the rise of the flesh-eater. Shane's body jerked and he made a louder hissing noise. His head lifted from the ground, his eyes already clouded but landing on Philip.

The bounty hunter was entranced by the sight before him as Shane's arm tried reaching out to him. The fingers were out of reach and Shane slowly began to rise up. The people behind them, gasped some of them making little cries of horror. Philip could not seem to move. Shane pulled his body off the ground, still intent on Philip. Rick brought his gun up but then Philip did shift, placing his body right in front of Rick. Before Rick could re-adjust, the tall man drew his pistol and shot the approaching monster between the eyes inches before the grasping fingers reached him.

"You were right, Sheriff. Things are not running very smoothly in Quarry," Philip said to Rick. "You can't even manage to keep your dead down."


	40. Chapter 40

Interesting occurrence today: I walked into an appointment and noticed my client was reading a kindle. I asked what book she was reading because I love books and I am nosey. She said that she almost hated to admit it but she was reading fan fiction. She started to explain what that was and I had to stop her, explaining I knew very well what it was. Turns out we are both pretty active on this site, just in different fandoms. That was a first for me.

I do not own The Walking Dead or The Twilight Zone but I love those who do.

**Chapter 40**

Merle couldn't wait to get into Woodbury. Dusk was descending and his ass hurt from riding all damn day. The telegraph office would probably already be closed so the first thing they would do is find the boarding house. Then something to drink. Hell, he'd even buy the kid a drink. He'd earned it for not trying to talk his ear off during the ride. Tomorrow morning they'd send those telegrams and head back out.

Maybe they had a brothel in this town, he mused. He could use a little action. He frowned, remembering he had a good woman back in Quarry now. All the more reason for them to get done what was needed and get the hell back home. He was getting too old for the trash in brothels anyway.

During the ride in, they had run into two wendigos. Merle was a little disappointed. He wanted to exceed his brother's number of kills of these demons but he'd only leveled up to him so far. Randall had taken out the first one they'd run across. Granted, it had apparently been an old man before death. There hadn't been any obvious wounds on it and it had moved very slowly. There had still been the deadly hunger driving it forward, making it shuffle towards them steadily.

They had stopped their horses but didn't get off. Merle had taken the first shot and cursed when the bullet struck the elderly monster in the jaw. Bone exploded with teeth fragments spraying outward. However, it was not enough to stop it from coming for them. Before Merle could try again, Randall had shot the thing in the head. The kid had looked so pleased with himself, right until Merle grumbled about the sun in his eyes and spat on the ground.

The second wendigo had been somewhat more disturbing. It looked like it had been a little boy in life, about eight or nine years old. As slow as the elderly man-thing was, the child-monster was fast. A huge chunk of its shoulder had been ripped off but it didn't slow it down at all. It had run at them from out of the woods, making a menacing growling noise. Randall had froze, shocked at the youth and speed of the creature. Merle had leapt off of Sky, who had been much more spooked by the little wendigo coming at her than the old one and had been starting to dance backwards. It had gotten almost to him before he'd accurately lined up the shot with its uncoordinated movements but the shot had hit its mark true. Merle would never admit how disturbing it actually was to kill what looked like a child, even if it was trying to eat him.

"I think we're getting close," Randall commented as they rode past a large farm house. It was the second one they'd come across, this one nicer than the last. There was so sign of movement other then the billowing of laundry in the breeze on the side of the property. Merle frowned at the silence around them but then mentally chided himself. It was close to supper time and people were probably all just eating inside. Of course, there wasn't even the bark of a dog or the crow of a chicken to break up the quiet.

Randall shifted uncomfortably in his saddle and Merle had a feeling the young man felt the same tension as he did. Then again, it could have just been from soreness. The horses trudged along forward and they could see buildings appear down the road.

"Fuck, yeah. I can't wait ta get off this horse," Merle murmured happily. "No offense, Sky," he added softly, scratching the horse behind the ear. Leaning over to Randall, he poked him in the arm. Randall gave him an annoyed look but Merle just chuckled. "Yah ever had a real drink, kid?"

"My mama used to let me drink a little wine when I was young. My rancher boss was a fan of brandy, which he gave me a taste of once. Can't say I liked it though," Randall commented, making a disgusted face at the memory.

"Yah ever been drunk?"

"No, sir. Not sure this is the right time for it now though. You know, with us being on a mission and all," Randall told him, reading Merle's open mind.

"Aww, yer a stick in the mud, kid," Merle mocked him but there was no real venom in his voice. A smirk came on his face. "You lookin' ta take over the deputy position? That why you tryin' so hard to make a good impression on Officer Friendly?"

Randall's face colored and he refused to meet Merle's eyes. Merle snickered, knowing he'd hit a touchy subject. Those were his favorites; made life more entertaining to exploit them.

The horses clomped on to the main throughway through the town of Woodbury. The place was bigger than Quarry but that hardly made it a sprawling metropolis. Yet, Merle frowned at the apparent lack of activity. He examined the first structure on his left, the blacksmith's place. It was at the edge of town, a smart location when dealing with fire regularly. He could see the glowing embers in the forge but no one was there, the tools scattered about haphazardly around the heavy anvil.

Twisting his head to the building on their right, the sign advertised it as a post office. That's where the telegraph would be but the door was locked tight and the shades drawn down. It was true that it was starting to get dark but where the hell was everyone? A tight knot of fear settled in his stomach.

"Merle?" Randall asked him, uncertainty clear in his voice.

A few more steps into town and the stench hit them. Neither man could help grimacing. Randall put a hand up to his nose, trying to block out the retched smell but to no avail. Now they could hear a noise, the buzzing of hungry flies coming out the half open door of the general store. Merle was glad that he could not see whatever was hidden inside.

A movement caught his eye at the other end of the street. The sun was in his eyes, silhouetting a figure. It was walking towards them and Merle thought he saw flash of a sheriff's badge.

"Hey, where the hell is everybody in this god-forsaken town?" Merle questioned the lawman. When there was no reply other than the quickening of the man's pace, Merle realized he knew what had happened to everyone in Woodbury. The pit off fear grew, making his heart pound.

"Um, Merle?" Randall's voice was fearful but Merle ignored him, pulling his pistol out of the holster. He assumed that Randall realized the man coming towards them was not the welcoming committee. Merle's eyes never left the oncoming wendigo as he leaned forward in the saddle. The sun flashed off the badge again.

"Merle!" Randall's tone was panicky, disrupting Merle's concentration for a moment. A curse was on his lips as he turned to quiet the kid down but then he saw why Randall was alerting him.

The Woodbury saloon was far larger than the girl's saloon in Quarry. It must have been completely full of people when the wendigos attacked and not many had been able to escape. Those demons had been somewhat dormant with nothing to stimulate their interest, just milling around the room or staying in the chairs they'd died in. Until now, when fresh meat walked right into town.

Body after body began pouring out of the saloon, focused intently on them. The half open door to the general store across the street squealed all the way open and more of them filled the open space in front of them. Some of the creatures had been pretty torn up but others looked like nothing had even touched them. All of them had the same cloudy eyes, which seemed like they should be sightless and yet could track them clearly. The dead sheriff that had already been after them merged with the growing mob of demons.

Merle whirled Sky around, intent on running out of this town as fast as his horse could carry him. Randall followed his lead, spurring the large thoroughbred on with his heels. Before they could even get past the blacksmith's workshop, another pack of wendigos appeared around the building, drawn by the commotion on the street. They cut off their path of escape out into the countryside.

"Shit!" Merle spat and leapt off Sky's back. The horse couldn't save him. Even at a full gallop, the monsters would catch them and he would be trapped on top of the animal. He smacked Sky hard in the rump, send her sprinting away. If he'd stayed on her, both of them would have been goners. On his feet, Merle had a higher chance of escaping and he hoped she did too. He knew just how much his little brother loved that horse and he grudgingly admitted a fondness for the beast himself.

Randall mimicked his actions, stumbling as he landed on the ground, trying to clear himself away from the frightened animal. The big gelding bolted after Sky without any prompting. Merle knew he should turn and run but his breath caught in his throat as he watched several of the undead break off from the approaching group to go after Sky. She reared up, trampling the closest one under her front hooves and then slamming one away behind her with a strong kick of her back legs. Then she took off back in the direction of Quarry.

The only reason she was able to get away unscathed was because the wendigos turned their efforts on Randall's horse, a closer target. The thoroughbred fought valiantly but he was no match for the pack of undead. His kicks and bites tore out their dead flesh and broke their bones but his efforts were ineffectual. The creatures were relentless in their pursuit for live meat.

Merle only stared at the gruesome scene long enough to see the horse pulled down on the ground and the creatures swarm over it. A peek over his shoulder revealed that the dead mob coming from the saloon and general store was almost upon them. It looked like there was over a hundred of them and he could see even more of them emerging from other doorways and around far corners. He grabbed Randall, who was entranced by the death of his horse. Spinning him around, Randall snapped out of it and pulled his gun out.

"Get up against me, back to back!" Merle hissed at him. The young man complied. As the horse stopped moving, several of the wendigos refocused on the two men. Merle and Randall were completely surrounded, the situation hopeless.

Merle growled in frustration. He wasn't going to leave this earth without a fight. No, he was going to take as many of these bastards down with him. He started shooting his pistol, his aim practically perfect in his battle for survival. Heads exploded around him and bodies hit the dirt. Randall did the same, missing more often but picking off several of the closest monsters. Yet, they kept coming.

The sound of the dull clicking of his empty gun sent a chill through Merle. There was no way to reload, the majority of the spare ammo in the saddle bags of their horses. Even the few spare bullets he'd slipped into his pocket would have taken too much time to load. With a snarl of anger, he pulled his hunting knife out.

Randall whimpered when his gun ran out of ammo. He had a knife but his hands were shaking so badly that he dropped it on the ground. Merle shoved his knife through the face of a dead woman. Her face had been painted thickly with make-up and Merle had the unwelcoming thought that she might have been one of the whores at the brothel. If he survived this, he had the sick feeling that he'd never be able to enjoy a prostitute again. Her face would invade his mind, poisoning anything else.

As he wrenched the knife out of the women and plunged it into a fat man still wearing a black hat on his head, he felt Randall push against his back as the kid kicked out at a wendigo closing in on him. Merle pulled at his knife but it seemed stuck on something inside the dead man's skull. In the blink of an eye, he saw the teeth of a dead teenage girl opening to sink into the flesh of his right hand. He couldn't move. He was going to be infected, torn apart while still alive.

Suddenly, the girl-creature's head exploded. The one Randall had shoved away had her head explode as well. Several of the monsters fell from head shots.

"Get to the post office!" a deep voice screamed at them. It was coming from the roof, a shot gun protruding off the edge. It fired several more times, felling demons in front of them. It practically opened a path to the nearby building. Merle grabbed Randall and dragged him along. He hoped the door wasn't actually locked because he wasn't going to have time to break it open, not with the horde behind him.

Lucky for him, it was taken care of. A pretty, light-skinned black woman with curly hair swung the door open for them. "Hurry!" she urged them. The two men flew through the door and she slammed it shut behind them. Merle could see that the shaded windows actually had wooden blockades over them. The woman started shifting a very heavy piece of furniture back in front of the door just as it creaked from the pressure of dead bodies crashing into it. Randall helped her with the barricade.

A large black man rushed down the back stairs. "We've got to hide, right now!"

"Not that I ain't grateful fer yer helpin' us out but who the hell are you people?" Merle shouted as they ran through the building.

"Call me Tyreese and that's my baby sister Sasha behind you," he yelled back over his shoulder as they ducked under the stairs. Tyreese heaved open a trap door and motioned for them to climb down. Then he jumped down after them, pulling the door closed over them. Darkness assaulted them on all sides.


	41. Chapter 41

So I heard a rumor that there are Wendigos in "The Lone Ranger". I must go see that movie! Also, anyone else amused that the bad guy on True Blood is the Governor? Copycats.

I do not own The Walking Dead or The Twilight Zone but I love those who do.

**Chapter 41**

Daryl strolled down the road beside Carol, their shadows growing long as the day wound to a close. They were not holding hands but their bodies were close together, arms occasionally brushing against each other. No words were spoken but the silence was comfortable. He liked that Carol did not always feel the need to talk like a lot of other women.

He glanced over at her, his mouth quirking up in a lopsided smile. She caught it and a shy little smile appeared on her lips. She was still flushed, her lips just slightly swollen from his kisses. They had spent the day examining the one hay field, trying to figure out what Ed had been doing with the crops. Tomorrow they would tackle the corn field. It was hard work and neither of them was an expert on farming.

Near the end of the day, when they were both tired, sweating and hungry, Carol's foot had landed in a prairie dog hole. She fallen forward with a cry but he'd caught her before she'd hit the ground. He'd laid her gently on the ground and checked to make sure her ankle wasn't broken, despite her protests that she was fine. With her sitting on the ground and him leaning over her on his knees, his hand had drifted up from her ankle to her bent knee. He couldn't stop himself from crushing his lips to hers, not that she would ever have wanted him to stop. They'd made out like teenagers on the edge of the field.

Carol finally was the one who'd had to put the brakes on. They needed to go pick up Sophia at the Grimes' house and it was getting late. After brushing as much of the collected dirt off their clothes after their little romp so they didn't look completely filthy, they were almost at the sheriff's house.

Just as they were about to go up the porch stairs, Rick and Lori came into view. They were walking down the road from the direction of the center of town. Daryl saw Carol pause and frown as she observed them. Lori appeared distraught and she was leaning into Rick, who had his arm wrapped around her shoulders. He held her close against him and looked like he was murmuring to her.

Carol dashed away from the house, coming to stop in front of her friends. Daryl was right behind her. They could see that Lori's face was streaked with tears, her eyes red and puffy from crying. It looked like most of the crying was done but she was still sniffling a little.

"What happened?" Carol asked, worried herself.

Rick looked up at her, a sad expression. "Shane's dead."

Carol gasped but Daryl just looked confused. "Dead? Did one of them things get him?"

Rick shook his head. "No. He…made a bad decision."

Lori's head snapped up from Rick's shoulder. "He went crazy! Took half the town hostage at the saloon. Then he demanded that Rick face him in a draw. He was drunk! How did he possibly think he would win that!" she spoke out hysterically.

Daryl's eyes snapped to Rick. "So ya shot him?"

Rick shook his head again. "No. That slave hunter, Philip Blake, shot him from the back." Rick did not elaborate but Lori did it for him.

"That man is sick! He wanted to see Shane turn into one of those monsters. He stopped Rick from putting him down just so he could watch it happen. It was awful," Lori cried. Her face crumpled again in tears and she pressed back against her husband again.

"Oh sweetie, I'm so sorry! I know that you were all close with Shane, despite what has been going on," Carol tried to reassure the distraught woman. Daryl could tell that she was a little relieved that the couple's distress had nothing to do with Sophia or Carl, although she was trying to hide that relief. Daryl could care less about that asshole Shane taking a bullet. He was a menace and he was surprised it had taken this long for him to put the town in danger.

Carol continued. "Listen, you two have obviously had a traumatic day. You have been so wonderful taking care of Sophia lately. Why don't I take Carl for the night? Give you two some time alone," she offered.

Rick's eyes flicked to Daryl, unsure. Daryl didn't know what that was about so he just shrugged. Rick looked back to Carol. "Well, if it isn't too much trouble. Lori?"

Lori nodded. "Thank you," she said, he voice still choked up.

They went into the house and Rick directed Carol to take Lori right upstairs before the children saw how upset she was. It was just in time as Carl and Sophia came bounding out of the kitchen.

"What happened?" Carl demanded. "You promised to tell me as soon as you got home!"

Rick looked like he didn't know what to say to his son so Daryl did something completely out of character; he spoke up. "Quit yer bitchin'. Yer both gonna come back to the house with us and we'll tell ya over dinner." Carl opened his mouth to protest but Daryl beat him to it. "Not till dinner!"

That seemed to shut Carl up and prompt Rick into action. "Come on, we'll get your stuff together." The two of them went upstairs briefly and by the time they came back, Carl had a bag packed. Neither he nor Sophia looked overly happy. In fact, they seemed downright anxious to Daryl. His eyes narrowed on the children, wondering what was up with those two.

Carol came back down. "She's settled," was all she said then gave Rick a big hug before the four of them left. He smiled at her gratefully.

The kids trailed behind them as they headed back to the farm. They seemed to be getting more and more worried as they got further away from the Grimes house. Finally, Sophia stopped in the middle of the road.

"Mom, Daryl, I have to tell you something," she stated firmly.

Carl's eyes widened at her. "No! You can't tell them!"

Daryl eyed the boy suspiciously. This better not be something about them getting _physical_. They seemed awful young but then again, they'd been spending a lot of time together, having sleepovers. That boy was going to get a beating if he dared touch Sophia. Daryl scowled, not quite sure where these fierce feelings of protectiveness were coming from.

"We have to tell someone, Carl, and your dad is a lawman bound by that bad law so we can't tell him," Sophia said to Carl.

"What are you two talking about?" Carol exclaimed. Daryl just relaxed a little, hearing that this had more to do with some law than about any touching. How bad could they have broken the law anyway? What'd they do, steal something from the general store? Sneak a few drinks from the liquor cabinet?

Carl grabbed Sophia's arm in desperation and Daryl was ready to smack the kid. However, she just shook him off and blurted it out. "We've been hiding the escaped slave from that scary bounty hunter."

The adults just stared at her and the girl just stared right back at them, set in her belief that what they were doing was right. Carl was fidgeting next to her, focusing on his shoes.

"Where have you been keeping her?"Carol asked, recovering first.

"In the Grimes' old root cellar. But I'm afraid to just leave her there. If Carl's dad finds her, he's going to have to turn her over to that evil man because of that stupid law." She looked at Daryl. "Please, Daryl," she pleaded. "You said that you didn't agree with slavery. Help us!"

"Wait, Sophia!" Carol interjected. "He said she killed people! She could be very dangerous."

Carl spoke up now. "No, she hasn't killed anyone. He lied about that. He's the one who killed people. Her brother and niece. He lied about his eye too. She's the one that did that, when she was trying to save her niece. He's a liar!"

"And just what do ya all want us ta do?" Daryl asked them.

Sophia and Carl were quiet a moment then Sophia answered. "Move her to our attic."

Carol was nodding her head. "Yes, that would be a good place. There's only one window and it faces backwards. Plus, you have to pull down the stairs to get up there so access is restricted."

Daryl gave her a bewildered look. "Yer goin' along with this?"

Carol nodded. "I think we should help her. That slave hunter was creepy and I would hate to see him succeed." She smiled at him. "Besides, Merle told me I should be a bad girl while he's away."

Daryl snorted, unable to hide the smirk on his face from her comment. Then he nodded to the kids. "Okay. How we gonna do this?"

"I can sneak around the house and get her. As long as my parents are in their bedroom, they shouldn't be able to see the backyard," Carl said.

"I'm goin' with ya," Daryl stated. "No arguin'."

"Be careful, you two," Carol said, her hand on Daryl's arm. She and Sophia moved off the road and leaned against a tree nearby that offered them a good view of the Grimes' house as Daryl and Carl moved towards it.

It was easy for the two of them to sneak around to the back of the house. They had a good view of the backyard but anyone in the kitchen would have a good view of them too. Carl carefully slinked forward, his eyes on the windows. He motioned Daryl that it was clear. Unfortunately, as soon as Daryl started moving, Carl's eyes got very wide at seeing his father in the window. He motioned Daryl back as he himself slunk back against the wall. He'd been sure his Dad saw him and he held his breath waiting for the back door to open. Yet, it never happened. Carl checked again but they were clear.

He knocked at the old root cellar door and then they both slipped in. The place looked empty, not even the blankets Carl had brought Michonne were visible. Only the lantern could be seen, shining in the middle of the enclosure.

"Where she at?" Daryl asked but his question was quickly answered when he felt a body press against his back, a sword held against his neck. "Shit!" he cursed.

"Michonne, no! He's come to help us!" Carl cried out at her.

The sword held for another couple of tense seconds but then it dropped away from Daryl's neck. He released a big breath. "Damn, woman! You want savin' or not?" She didn't say anything, just regarded him with suspicion in her large dark eyes. Daryl addressed Carl. "Let's get the hell outta here."

Michonne didn't look like she was going to move so Carl tried to calm her. "This is Daryl. He's friends with Sophia's mom. We're going to hide you in Sophia's attic. The Governor won't be able to find you there." The dark woman pressed her lips together in thought. She examined Daryl again, who was getting mightily uncomfortable with all this waiting. Then she seemed to come to a decision and nodded to Carl. She grabbed her pack and they got the hell out of there.

**XXXXXXX**

Sky ran.

She was not a young horse but there was still a lot of life in her. And she did not want to die.

She had always loved humans. They had taken good care of her throughout her life, even when she was sent to live in new places. Never had she gone hungry or been abused. That was especially true of her two current human companions. The smaller one had become her favorite human ever. He always gave her the yummiest treats and brushed her in such a way that made her skin feel so good.

Yet, she knew that what followed behind her were not human. Sure, they looked like humans and moved like humans on two legs but they were not. She could smell the death and decay rolling off them in waves. The part of her brain that responded to danger was screaming at her to run.

She galloped away as fast as she could run. It put a lot of distance between her and the not-humans. When she got particularly tired, she was able to stop at a little stream and have drink. She nibbled at the green grass growing there and slipped into a light sleep as it got very dark out. Yet, she did not dare lay down in the soft meadow. Luckily for her, horses had the ability to sleep standing up.

A small scraping noise woke her from dozing. It was them. There seemed to be more of them, shuffling along trying to get her. She had hoped they had given up but she did not understand their single-minded determination when in pursuit of their prey. She ran again, putting much distance between herself and the rotten ones.

Then she saw it, a familiar sight. She had been there once before and there had been real humans there. She went into the Sioux camp, walking towards the fire in the middle.

Most of the Native Americans had gone to sleep for the night in their teepees. However, a few of the braves were still awake around the fire, telling stories and jokes to each other. The mood was light and carefree until they heard the noise of the horse in the dark.

"_Did our horses break out of the enclosure?" _one asked the small group in his native tongue as he saw Sky coming towards them.

Walking Bird jumped up and easily caught the reins hanging down from Sky's halter. All of them noticed that the saddle and bags attached to her were not Sioux style. "_This is the trader's horse._"

"_The one with the arrow thrower?"_ another one asked.

Walking Bird nodded. He brought Sky a little closer to the fire. _"She is covered with sweat, like she has run here." _He frowned, disturbing thoughts filling his mind. _"Something has happened."_

"_Should we wake the elders?" _one of the younger men asked.

"_No. it is dark and we will not travel with the threat of the Wendigo during the night. We will let her rest and then I will return her to our friend tomorrow. In the meantime, I want to double our number of sentries. Work out shifts, wake up other braves if you have to. If the horse came to us, the demons might come to us as well."_ The other men nodded emphatically.

With that, he undid Sky's saddle and led her to the enclosure that had been built for their horses. She got a few whinnies and nickers in greeting but none of the horses were overly alarmed by this newcomer. Walking Bird gave her an apple and she was happy eating, feeling safe.

None of them realized that a few extra sentries guarding the camp would be like drops in ocean against the onslaught heading towards them.


	42. Chapter 42

Warning: Smut ahead. Please beware and adjust your plans accordingly. This will be your final warning.

Wow, Sky has become quite the popular character! As always, thank you all so much for reading this. I have actually managed to defeat the massive pile of paperwork on my desk so maybe I'll have more writing time? One can only hope.

I do not own The Walking Dead or The Twilight Zone but I love those who do.

**Chapter 42**

It was almost dark by the time the little group made it back to the Peletier farm. They were moving quickly, all anxious that the slave hunter would sneak out of the shadows to capture Michonne. Yet, luck was with them as they made it into the house without being observed.

Carol ushered Michonne up to the attic, collecting sleeping blankets and pillows. She had a few candles in holders for the woman to use in the dark if needed but warned her that anyone behind the house would be able to see the glow from the upper window. Carol set up the makeshift bed on the wood floor. The attic was unfinished and she hoped that would deter anyone from checking it. Michonne did not speak as she watched Carol, who did not seem to notice her silence. The small, short-haired woman had a reassuring manner about her. Then she was gone, off down the stairs to get dinner for them all.

Michonne looked around the attic, which was definitely better than the root cellar had been. She had a feeling they moved to a new one for fear of the old one collapsing. There were times when little sprinkles of dirt would fall from the ceiling and the walls would seem to tremor. Michonne would be afraid to even breathe for fear of being trapped in an avalanche of dirt. Now she had a stable roof over her head and solid walls protecting her.

She took a minute to process what had happened just now. There were people helping her. White people. It was strange. It was one thing for the children to care for her. Children could be so innocent of the ways of the world. But now there were two adults involved, willingly. Sure, she had heard whispered of the underground railroad where white folks in the north would smuggle and hide slaves escaping out of the south. Unfortunately, that opportunity had never been presented to her.

Her thoughts turned to what Carl had told her about Sophia's father, Carol's husband. It made her wonder just who Daryl was, the gruff man that had come with Carl to get her out of the root cellar. She could tell there was something between him and Sophia's mother just by how he looked at her. It was like his eyes softened from their usual harsh judgment of the world around him when they touched on her. He'd only touched her once in her presence, a tentative brushing of his fingers against her back as she went into the house ahead of him. Even she as an outsider could see how loving of a touch it was, as though she was something precious and breakable that he had to guard against danger. If Michonne hadn't know better, she would have guessed he were her husband. Even though she knew he wasn't, that Carol's husband was dead, she hoped they could find happiness together in this difficult world. They deserved that much for just giving a damn about her.

Carol came back not long after that. She had sent Daryl with the kids to wash up at the pump out back. She felt a little guilty because Carl was already pressing for details about what happened in town. Carol had basically thrown Daryl under the bus (not that she would know that phrase), saying that Daryl would tell him all about it while she got dinner ready. Daryl had thrown her a scalding look, muttering a curse under his breath as they went back out the kitchen door, Carl immediately shooting questions at him. Carol tried unsuccessfully to keep the smile off her lips as she had prepared a tray of food for Michonne.

As she struggled to get up the trap door stairs with the tray balanced in one hand, a black arm reach through the attic opening and lifted it carefully away from her. By the time Carol got up the rest of the stairs, Michonne had the tray in her lap. There was a plate of salt-cured ham, a cob of corn and a large slice of bread with butter.

"I hope you like it. With everything going on, I haven't had nearly as much time as I normally would to cook a real meal," Carol told her.

"Food is food," Michonne responded. Her tone was somewhat harsher than she meant it to be, some of the bitterness at having to starve in the past slipping out. Then she took a bit of the buttered bread and her whole attitude changed. The taste of the sweet butter on the soft bread was like heaven. "This is good," she said out loud, her tone now surprised.

Carol smiled, pleased. "Glad you like it. Hopefully that man will be gone soon and you won't have to stay up here for too long. If for some reason, you need to get out of here in an emergency, you only have to press this far corner of the trapdoor. It is a little tricky and you have to use some muscle but it will open for you. Is there anything else you need tonight?"

Michonne shook her head, taking a bite of the delicious ham. Carol turned to leave but then Michonne spoke out. "Thank you. Hopefully I can break away from my oppressor like you have."

Carol froze and just blinked at her. "What?"

Michonne didn't answer, as was her way. She just took a bite of buttered corn-on-the-cob and almost moaned from the wonderful taste. The silence drew out until Carol, red-faced, spoke again.

"You've heard about my husband, haven't you?" she asked in a small voice. "Sophia told you."

"Carl," Michonne corrected her. "Sounds to me like you were just as much of a slave to cruel master as I was. Gives me hope that I can be free too. And I don't know who that man down there is to you but even I can see he loves you. Better not let him treat you like the last one did."

Carol's face grew even redder and she could feel the heat coming off her face. She and Daryl had not yet defined their relationship and she wasn't really in any hurry to do it either. "He won't or I'll leave him too," Carol stated in a firmer voice than the small voice before.

"Good," Michonne murmured, finishing her meal and handing Carol back the tray. As Carol started down the stairs, she said "Thanks."

"You're welcome," Carol said sincerely and then shut the trap door.

Dinner was a quiet affair. Carl in particular had taken the slaying of Shane hard. While the man had gone crazy and Carl understood the danger he had brought to the town with his behavior, Shane had only ever been kind to Carl. It was a hard thing for him to swallow that a grown-up he trusted, and a lawman at that, had betrayed everything he stood for. Carol didn't even chastise her daughter when she was washing dishes and saw Sophia fling a kernel of corn at the gloomy boy. It had elicited the desired smile along with him flinging a crust of bread at her.

Once the children were all settled, Sophia in bed and Carl on the floor, Carol came back downstairs to find Daryl. She found him laying out the blankets on the sofa, his boots already off.

"You don't have to sleep down here," she offered.

"'is okay. We're both tired and I don't want nobody sayin' any nasty things aboutcha," he said, sitting on the sofa.

"Fuck them." His eyebrows shot up at her cursing. She took his hand and led him up the stairs. "I want you with me, even if all we do is sleep." She meant it too. Of course there were going to be people who called her a whore for taking a man into her bed just days after her husband died. None of those people knew her, knew what kind of hell her husband had put her through. Those that mattered, like Andrea, wouldn't think badly of her and that's all she cared about.

The two of them fell asleep quickly after such a long tiring day.

However, her sleep was not comforting. A nightmare plagued her. In the dream, the slave hunter had come to her door. Instead of looking for Michonne, he was searching for her. Ed had hired him to recapture her, his slave. He was going to whip her to within an inch of her life for being with Daryl. She was tied up, naked and exposed. She could hear the whip whizzing behind her, ready to cut deep into her skin. She sobbed for help but no one was there to help her.

Her eyes shot open, awake. She was breathless and just laid there for a few minutes getting her breathing under control. Glancing at the clock, she saw it was only 4:30am. Daryl was still asleep beside her. She closed her eyes and tried to go back to sleep. It evaded her and at 5:00am, she decided it was time to get up for an early day.

Shifting off the bed, she gasped when Daryl's hand reach out and seized her forearm. "Where ya goin'?" he asked, his voice laden with sleep.

"Can't sleep. Figured I'd get up and go clean or something. Go back to bed," she whispered, unhappy that she had woken him.

He pulled her arm towards him. "I can think a better things ta do than clean." His voice wasn't sleepy any longer. It sounded more mischievous. He kissed her inner wrist, his tongue licking her skin. It sent a bolt of lightning up her arm and deep inside her body. He pulled her closer to him and she could feel that luscious throbbing again. She wanted him and it was obvious he wanted her also.

She leaned over him, bringing her lips to his as he laid back against the pillows. His kissed were hungry, filled with adoration. He made her feel desirable, even after years of being told that she wasn't. As his lips moved against hers, his tongue explored her mouth and tangled with hers. His hands roamed over her body, which was still covered by her nightgown. She could feel the heat coming off him even through the cloth. Shortly, he had undone the ribbon tie and was shoving it off her in a heap on the edge of the bed without even breaking the kiss. His hands resumed their exploration of her, his nails grazing her back in way to send ripples of sensation along her spine.

She moaned against into his mouth. Then she remembered all the guests in the house and resolved to keep all sounds to a minimum. It was hard as his hands cupped her breasts, kneading them and dragging his rough thumbs against her nipples. The throbbing intensified.

Breaking the kiss, she struggled to get out of her panties. Her hands and legs just weren't cooperating and she was fumbling. Daryl, in a state of high lust, clutched the material and tore them off her body. Then he hauled her on top of him, her body splayed out over his. Her legs went around his waist, straddling him. She could feel how hard he wanted her pressed against her center.

Carol was enjoying his newfound confidence. He had been completely passive that first night in his bedroom, letting her have full control of him. Even when she had presented herself to him in her own bedroom, she'd had to show him what to do. But he was proving to be fast learner and a passionate lover. His finger delved into her folds, hitting its mark. Her hips bucked against his, a tiny whimper making it past her clamped lips. The throbbing enveloped her whole body and she realized needed him. Now.

Reaching between them, she wrapped her fingers around his base and positioned her body over him. His eyes were on her, filled with lust. She took him into her, sliding down his length. She wondered briefly if he could feel that throbbing as her tissues encased him.

She shifted and this time it was his turn to have his hips buck. He was biting his bottom lip again and she couldn't help but to smile at that. Then she sat up a little, her one hand going against the wall at the head of the bed and her other hand pressing into his shoulder. Her hips began to move against his in rhythm. It was slow at first but soon sped up. She was using the wall for leverage to ground herself down into him even as he was thrusting up into her. His rough hands were on her thighs then moved to wrap around her waist, helping her push down on him.

The friction inside of her added to the throbbing. It got more and more intense as he slid in and out of her. She could feel her skin heating up, her heart pounding in her chest. The explosion inside of her started in her core and blasted upwards. She could feel the scream in her throat trying to clawing its way out of her mouth but she gritted her teeth shut. Only the quietest little whine came from her as she climaxed.

Her muscles tightened around him. She was so tight as he thrust into her once more. Then he went over his own edge. His fingertips pressed into her hips bones as he rode on the waves of pleasure. His seed spilled deep inside her.

Both of them were panting and sweaty from the experience. Carol rolled off him, stretching out on the bed and pressing herself up against him. His arm curled around her.

"You were right," she said. He looked at her confused. "That was so much better than cleaning."

He barked out a sharp laugh at that.

"I might be able to go back to sleep for a little while now," she said as her eyes closed.


	43. Chapter 43

Hey everyone! Sorry to bring up a serious issue but it is weighing on my mind. It has recently been brought to my attention that several writers on this website have been mercilessly persecuted for their writing. At least one person has even received death threats and another is considering stopping writing altogether. For writing CARYL! This is unacceptable. Constructive criticism is one thing; I welcome it to improve my writing and try to give helpful advice to others. But flaming is totally worthless crap. If you don't like what you are reading, don't read it! Words are hurtful and it takes me right back to those bullies in middle school who say mean things just to make themselves feel better. I will tell you that nobody is going to intimidate me on here. I write these stories for me, because I want to. The positive response is a total bonus and I love you guys for it. If there is anyone out there who is being targeted and needs a pep talk, let me know!

Okay, rant over. Now let's see what's going on with Merle…

I do not own The Walking Dead or The Twilight Zone but I love those who do.

**Chapter 43**

It was dark down there in the basement under the trap door. The night had not been far off when they had jumped down there and now the sun was completely gone. They had no lantern or candles to light anyway. It was stuffy also. The four of them had been breathing heavy at first and the place was basically sealed shut. At least it wasn't hot being underground. That would have tormented them even worse.

They didn't dare to talk or even move. For a long time, they were just staring up at the ceiling. They could hear the shuffling and groaning of the undead on the wooden planks over their head. The monsters seemed to be trying to figure out where their prey had hidden but just did not have the mental capacity to understand the trapdoor. It helped that without drafts in the basement, their scents weren't being carried up through the cracks in the floor.

As the night wore on and the adrenalin wore off, Merle's thoughts began to wander. His life had changed so much in the past few years. When he'd won that derelict property in a poker game, he figured he'd hang there for a little while and suck as much out of the little town of Quarry as he could. Didn't help that the Dixon reputation preceded him thanks to his asshole father, Buck. Not that Merle hadn't made his own reputation. He'd been involved in more than his share of drunken brawls.

Doc Greene had been kind to him, giving him a job on his enormous farm. Unfortunately, Merle just could not help himself around the eldest daughter. Maggie had a hot ass and an even hotter temper. He could just imagine how wild she would be in bed. His advances were not well-met and he was gone soon enough. If it had been up to him, he would have just left Quarry, continuing his adventures on the road.

Daryl had been the stopping point. He knew his little brother hated just traveling around, always greeted with looks of suspicion and having to run out of town on short notice. Usually it was when Merle had pissed off the wrong people, like the sheriff or the husband of one of his conquests. Merle had gotten a bad feeling when Daryl had started fixing up the property. Built a damned corral for that horse he loved so much.

Merle had never seen Daryl flip out the way he did when he lost his job at the Greene farm. Usually he'd just huff and stomp around a little then pack up his things to follow Merle out of whatever town they were crashing in at the time. This time was different. It was obvious the man wasn't going to leave Quarry the way Merle wanted to. He learned later that Daryl had already been in talked with the Indians and the store owner about trading at that point.

With the threat of getting his ass beat in his sleep, Merle had been forced to find another job. He'd been grumbling about it over a beer at the saloon and Andrea heard him. She'd been the one to mention the Peletier farm, a small farm just down the road from his house. He knew Ed was a mean fucker from playing cards with him and he was reluctant to go asking for a job to that man. So he'd taken the pussy's way out and went to Carol at the schoolhouse instead. He still didn't know how she did it but he'd gotten the job.

When he'd started there had been another farm hand, Axel, who was now employed at the Greene farm. The guy was a bumbling idiot, always trying to please the boss. He never shut up, his mouth always running. Ed had finally fired him for being so annoying. Merle took a different approach with Ed. He kept out of the bastard's way, getting his work done with a minimal amount of contact.

A loud crash hit the ceiling on the other side of the room. All of them jumped but none of them made any noise otherwise. Merle had been afraid that Randall was going to lose his shit but the kid seemed to be hanging tough. There had been the pounding of heavy footsteps moving faster to that location.

"Post office scale," Tyreese whispered very quietly. One of the flesh-eaters must have pushed it off the counter and those things were solid. The racket had probably attracted a fair number of wendigos. They sat there with nerves on edge as the moaning intensified but as the minutes ticked by, the flesh-eaters must have realized there was no real meat there so moved on. It got quieter again.

Merle wondered what time it was. He knew they'd been down there for a few hours already. He heard Randall shift beside him and then his breathing rhythmically. He almost laughed when he realized the kid had fallen asleep. Briefly he contemplated tackling him just to scare the shit out of him. Probably be quite entertaining. However, Merle was afraid the boy would scream like a little bitch and bring the biters right down on them.

His brain started drifting in thought again. An image of his baby brother clutching Carol's hand rolled into his head. He couldn't believe what had transpired between the two of them without him even knowing it. When had his brother even grown the balls to be with a woman? Last time he'd checked, Daryl hadn't spoken a word to Carol and was a fidgety mess in her presence. Not that his behavior was anything new around women. Merle had previously wondered if his brother even liked females.

Then again, there was that time he had could have sworn he caught Daryl checking Carol out when her back was turned at the saloon a while ago but he'd dismissed it. Normally he would have ribbed Daryl about it but he'd hit his thumb with a hammer earlier that day and the fucking thing had still hurt. He let it go and promptly forgot about it. Until now.

And then Daryl trying to hide her in his bedroom? Holy shit! Merle had been speechless at that. That was a move he never would have expected his brother to make, not in a million years. Yet, he couldn't help feel a little pride, like some of his antics had rubbed off on his baby brother. He'd practically wanted to jump for joy at the idea of his brother finally getting some. Plus, Carol had been a lot of fun that night, drinking moonshine and laughing at his jokes. She had always been kind to him but quiet, constantly cringing under the shadow of her fucking husband. Seeing this new side of her was interesting. He wondered how she was in bed and then smiled, thinking that his brother would probably kick his ass for such thoughts. Well, he'd try anyway.

He had to admit that it wasn't just pride in his brother's sexual conquest that made him glad Daryl hadn't come home last night. Merle couldn't help but grin, even in this desperate situation, when he thought about Karen. She hadn't let him fuck her yet but she wasn't exactly playing the part of the blessed virgin either. He had been well satisfied with her attention, discovering that she was multi-talented with her tongue. He had planned on just taking her but he was surprised at himself that he was willing to wait. Before, that was the only goal and once it was achieved, he was done. Not with Karen. There was something about her that was different. Or maybe it was him that was different. Maybe this small town family shit was starting to rub off on him. Even her having a kid didn't bother him the way something like that used to.

Without realizing it, Merle drifted off to sleep. After the long day of travel followed by the almost-fatal encounter in Woodbury, his body forced him into sleep. It was a deep sleep of utter exhaustion and lasted several hours.

A boot kicked his shin sharply. He awoke with a jump and a growl, ready to do battle with whatever roused him. There was faint light filtering in through the slats of the ceiling above them. Morning had come. He glanced down Tyreese's boot, the one closest to him.

"You were snoring," Tyreese whispered. "Loudly," the man added.

Randall was still sleeping, no snoring coming from the kid. Sasha was also sleeping, her head on her brother's thigh. She looked like a little kid in sleep, not like the fierce woman who had saved their lived the night before.

"How'd you two keep from getting' chewed on, unlike the rest of this damned town?" Merle inquired.

"I'm one of the cattle wranglers for the big ranch on the other side of town. We were running a herd and a few of the head broke off. Sasha was riding with me and we went after them. Took several more days than we were planning but when we got back to the ranch, it was complete chaos. We've just been trying to survive since then," Tyreese told him, his voice tired.

"You stay up the whole night?" Merle asked Tyreese, catching just how tired the big black man appeared.

The man nodded affirmatively. "I think a lot of them have been drawn off. I have been watching the shadows since the sun came up and there hasn't been any movement up there. This may be our chance to get the hell out of this god-forsaken town."

"Amen! Fuck this hell-hole," Merle answered, keeping his voice low but forceful. As Tyreese gently shook Sasha awake, Merle smacked Randall on the chest. The young man woke with a snort. "We're getting outta here, kid."

Tyreese lead them to the trapdoor and cracked it just enough to see out. The place was destroyed, basically torn to pieces, but empty of wendigos. Carefully and as silent as possible, they all left the safety of the post office basement.

"Out the back," Sasha whispered, motioning in that direction.

"Wait!" Randall whispered harshly. He ran up to the front of the place despite everyone else trying to stop him. When they followed him, he had a depressed look on his face as he held up the ruined remains of the telegraph. It would not be sending any more messages. "Shit," he muttered. Merle had to stop himself from laughing at the boy's cursing as they went out the back door.

Moving slowly with weapons raised, they moved around the building and were surprised to find the street empty of all the walking dead. There were numerous rotting bodies from their encounter coming into town and the stench was even worse than before.

"We need to get to Denver. There will be help at the capital," Sasha said.

"Hell no! I'm getting' back to Quarry. Those things could be headed right fer my town and we ain't gonna make it back in time if we go ta Denver. You with me boy?" Merle looked pointedly at Randall.

"Hell ya, Merle!" Randall practically shouted. All of them cringed at the sound, even Randall. He covered his mouth, embarrassed by his own enthusiasm.

The moans and shuffling came from over by the blacksmith's. They all tensed, bringing their weapons up. Luckily, there were only four of them, one for each person to dispatch. Merle and Tyreese easily dispatched the first two. Sasha danced back gracefully before plunging her knife into the creature's forehead.

Randall was not so graceful. His foot caught on one of the dead bodies and he tripped. A strangled cry left him as he crashed down directly onto the foul, putrid flesh. He started to hyperventilate as the moving demon closed in on him. He struggled to right himself, smearing even more of the decaying slime over himself.

Merle was just about the ram his knife into the back of its skull when it stopped still. The thing had been a wisp of a woman, dressed in what had been a beautiful dress. It was difficult to tell if she had been beautiful herself since half her face had been ripped off. Merle wasn't sure what stayed his hand but he was interested to see what was happening.

The dead woman peered at Randall, almost confused. Randall stayed stock still with fear. She seemed to sniff him and then drew back. Sniffing again, she turned towards Merle, the next closest person and went for him. Her teeth were gnashing but she did not stand a chance against him.

"What the fuck just happened?" Merle spat, pointing at Randall but directing his question at Tyreese.

"Damned if I know! Looked like she couldn't smell him anymore. Not after he was covered in that shit," Tyreese threw back at him.

Merle stared at Randal and then smiled. It was a cold smile. "That's it. That's how we fight these motherfuckers. We gotta smell like 'em."


	44. Chapter 44

Oh, you guys are going to so hate me. Sorry!

I do not own The Walking Dead or The Twilight Zone but I love those who do.

**Chapter 44**

Walking Bird was becoming more and more anxious as the night wore on. He could not get his mind off the white man's horse that had come to them. She had been sweating and packed like she was on a journey. Yet, she was all alone. He feared that this meant that Daryl Dixon, the first white man that he had ever come to trust and respect enough to bring onto their land, was dead.

The wendigos had been getting more common lately and the whole village was on edge. However, there had not been one spotted in at least three days so people were starting to breathe a little easier. Until now, of course.

Most of the braves were put on watch on the side of the village closest to the town of Quarry. He had no way of knowing which direction the horse had come from but it seemed the logical course. He had even woken up several other braves for more coverage. This action had also woken up a number of the women. He knew that many of them were packing essentials in case of evacuation.

Finally, he couldn't stand the tension any longer. Without a word to the men around him, he marched to the entrance of the Chief's teepee. Flying Eagle was the eldest man in the village, almost 68 years old. His beloved had passed away six winters earlier and Walking Bird knew the man missed her greatly. His youngest daughter Plucked Flower, the medicine woman of the village, shared his teepee. Her husband had died young and now she cared for her father's needs as well as the village's.

Walking Bird was not surprised to find her awake when he stuck his head in the opening. Plucked Flower was a very intelligent woman and she had probably become aware of the extra activity going on around her in the middle of the night. He could see her gathering important herbs along with bandages, salves and liquids into a large carrying bag. Looking up, she motioned him inside. Walking Bird complied.

Flying Eagle was asleep off to the side , bundled up snugly in his blankets. His daughter woke him gently. His eyes fell on Walking Bird.

"_Is it time?"_ he asked in their native tongue. Walking Bird frowned, unsure what to make of the question. Flying Eagle saw his confusion. "_Is it time to escape the Wendigos?"_ he clarified.

Walking Bird sighed loudly. "_I am unsure, great elder. The horse of the white trader has come here. She was packed as if to leave on a journey but she was alone. I fear the Wendigos have possessed her master and possibly even destroyed the white man's town. But I do not know this for sure and it is too dangerous to send a scout to investigate the state of the town. I have woken the braves to be ready but I need your infinite wisdom to guide me on what to do next."_

The old man pondered his words while the medicine woman continued to pack important items. It seemed she had already made up her mind on what the next course of action should be.

"_A bird will abandon its nest if danger is perceived, whether that danger is real or not. If it did not listen to that instinct and the danger was present, it would be doom for the bird. What does your instinct tell you? Is there danger?" _Flying Eagle turned the question back on Walking Bird.

"_Yes. I sense great danger,"_ Walking Bird spoke in a tense tone.

"_A great leader would heed his instincts. Better for his people to be scared and inconvenienced for no reason then to be attacked and killed in their sleep."_

Walking Bird nodded, standing up. _"We must escape. Move into the foothills. It must be done now."_ There was not a moment to lose. He feared they may already be too late.

Rushing from the teepee, Walking Bird directed several of the braves to wake the entire village. They were to start moving all the women, children and elderly out towards the western foothills. There were several systems of caves that the braves often used for various ceremonies and hunting but could be used to house the people. Caves would be easier to defend than the village of teepees.

Everyone was afraid but all of them moved with purpose to leave. Only the youngest children cried and they were hushed by their parents for fear of attracting the attentions of the wendigos. The eldest members were loaded on the horses with woman and children walking behind them. They were surrounded by braves carrying torches to light the way into the dead of night. Three groups had already left and the last, smallest group was just starting to set out. There were about twenty braves left behind with Walking Bird.

That was when the herd came for them.

**XXXXXXXX**

The sun shined brightly through the wispy curtains of the bedroom. Daryl woke up to the most pleasant feeling of having Carol asleep in his arms. She was practically curled around him. He watched with a small grin on his face as she breathed rhythmically in and out. His thoughts naturally went to their lovemaking session just a few hours before. It had been unexpected but wildly passionate. She was incredible. He briefly considered waking her now for another round but then he heard little voices down the hall.

She shifted, her cheek rubbing against his chest as she roused into wakefulness. A little moan of satisfaction came from her as she breathed in deeply. "I could get used to waking up like this," she said as she tilted her head and rested her chin on his sternum. She smiled at him, her blue eyes twinkling.

"Yeah, guess it ain't so bad," he said, eliciting a giggle from her as she sat up. She was still naked and he was having a hard time keeping his eyes off her as she dressed.

"You going to get up or do I have to drag you out of bed?" she asked, swatting at his feet. "I can already hear that the kids are up," she said when two pairs of feet were heard running down the stairs outside the bedroom door.

Daryl shift uncomfortably, feeling the need to ask a question that had been on his mind. "Ya think it's alright with them sleepin' together? Ya know, like in the same room and all?"

She tilted her head, contemplating his question. "Well, Sophia is eleven and Carl just turned twelve. Sophia knows about the facts of life; I've already had to explain to her where babies come from. I believe Carl does as well. Both of them act like they are being stabbed in the eye when they've seen adults being romantic so I'm not too worried they've engaged in any inappropriate behavior yet."

"Yet? I swear the second that boy hits thirteen, he ain't stayin' here no more. If he does, his ass is on the sofa," Daryl grumbled.

Carol laughed, poking him in the foot. "Daryl Dixon, you sound an awful lot like an overprotective father."

His eyes widened for a moment, realizing she was right. Then they narrowed and he glared at her. "That boy just better keep his hands ta himself."

Carol giggled as she went to leave the room. She closed the door behind her but not before he heard her retort. "Very overprotective." He threw a pillow at the closed door.

Sophia and Carl were already digging into their breakfasts when Daryl came downstairs. Neither of them seemed phased at all that he was still there and had not slept on the sofa.

"Good morning, Daryl!" Sophia chirped, her mouth full of eggs and toast. Carol brought him a plate and sat it down on the table for him.

"Don't talk with yer mouth full, kid. Yer gonna spit on me," Daryl ribbed her.

Sophia took a big swallow. "Gross. Sorry."

"I'm going to take this up to our guest," Carol told them, carrying a tray loaded with food for Michonne. "Be right back."

Once Carol came back and finished her own breakfast, it was time to get to work on that corn field that had been so neglected. She gave the children a choice: they could join them working in the field or they could stay in the house. They decided to stay in the house, complaining it was too hot outside. Carol emphasized the part about staying in the house. They were not allowed up in the attic to bother Michonne but if she was willing, she could talk to them through the trapdoor. However, if anyone came to the door, it had to be sealed up tight and one of them had to run into the fields for the adults. The consequences of not following these rules could be disastrous, with either Michonne's life or the threat of the wendigos. Both of them understood that.

In the corn field, Daryl and Carol got to work. It was hard and the sun was beating down on them, making them sweat. The kids were right, it was hot. After just a couple hours, both of them had their sleeves rolled up and were frequently wiping their brows.

"You should take off your shirt," Carol teased him.

He grunted. "You should take off yours."

She tried to hide a smile. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

He smirked at her. "Maybe."

Then he froze, his eyes on the ground in front of him. They were almost at the edge of the corn field. Carol came up behind him, peeking over his shoulder at what he was gazing at. Her breath caught in her throat at the scene before them.

Several stalks of corn had been bent and broken, the dirt around them disturbed. There was a shallow hole in the ground containing a small box. It was open and a leather pouch sat open inside of it. There was white powder all over the box and pouch. It was difficult to tell from the color but it looked like there were splotches of liquid that had sunk into the dirt around the area.

Daryl leaned down and sifted a small amount of the discolored dirt through his fingers. "Blood." Carol didn't say anything as he went over to the box and lifted out the leather pouch. Examining the white powder, he smelled it and then tasted the tiniest bit of it. "Opium."

"Opium?" Carol's voice squeaked.

Daryl dropped the pouch back down into the box. He faced her, his expression serious. "I think this is where Ed died. His blood. His drugs," he kicked the box, which flipped closed.

Carol nodded, also serious as her eyes just stared right at the now closed box. "This is what he's been doing out here all these months. This is what he was wasting our money on, letting the farm my parents built waste away. This is why he was getting more and more violent, not just attacking me but Sophia too! This was why he made our lives a living hell!" Her voice was getting more and more emotional as she spoke, never looking up from the box.

"Hey, stop," Daryl said, stepping up to her. His arm went around her waist, drawing her into him. She was shaking from rage. He could tell that she was trying desperately not to cry. Whereas he was so awkward when trying to comfort her before, now he seemed like he knew what to do as he rubbed her back gently. "He's dead and he ain't never comin' back. He can't hurt ya anymore."

He held her as she got her anger under control. Then she drew back. "I'm glad he's gone. I'm glad you're here with me instead." Then she kissed him sweetly on the lips. She went to move away from him but he held her in place. He leaned in for another kiss but before their lips could meet, a loud scream echoed across the farm.

With extreme urgency, Daryl grabbed Carol's hand and they bolted through the field back to the house. That was where the scream came from.


	45. Chapter 45

Hi all! So I just learned that the wonderful SOA loving mom is hosting a story contest for Caryl fan fiction. You can vote in several categories, including Best Overall, Funniest, Most Feels, Best AU, Nicest Author, Best Smut, Most Original Storyline, Best Death, Best OC, or write-in a category. I found out this story is in the running for Best AU. Thank you for everyone who has voted for it! I love you! I have some very stiff competition so I won't be sad if I don't win (I never win stuff, even card games, so I am pretty used to it) but I am so honored just to be considered. Even if you don't vote for me, go vote for someone!

And now back to the story, especially since I know you have all been holding your breath with those cliffhangers…

I do not own The Walking Dead or The Twilight Zone but I love those who do.

**Chapter 45**

The air was getting a little stuffy in the mid-morning heat. Sophia considered if she should open some of the windows to get some circulation flowing through the house. Then she decided against it because she was too lazy to get up. Plus, she was completely engrossed in their conversation and didn't want to miss out just to go open some windows.

She was sprawled out on the floor of the upstairs hallway. Carl was sitting next to her, his back against the wall. The trapdoor to the attic was open and Michonne was dangling her legs out as she spoke with them. Not that she did much of the talking. It was mostly the two of them talking with her listening. She did ask occasional questions or interject a comment but mostly she just listened. She was a very quiet woman, Sophia decided.

Carl spoke up then. "Did you see any of the wendigos while you were out on the road?"

Michonne gave him a strange look. "Wendigo?"

"It's a dead person who has been brought back to life by a demon. Then it will eat you and anything alive it can get. The only way to kill it is by shooting it in the head," Carl explained to her.

"You can also knife it or shoot an arrow through the head to kill it too," Sophia added. "Shooting it in the body only slows it down a little."

Michonne still had a doubtful look on her face. "These wendigos are real?"

"Yes! We saw one! She had been a woman and she was eating a dead bear that she had killed!" he said excitedly.

Michonne's skeptical face turned towards Sophia. "Really?" she asked, looking for verification of such an outlandish story.

Sophia nodded. "It was so scary. She kept clamping her jaws open and shut while trying to drag herself towards us. I don't think he mentioned that she missing her arm and leg too. We think the bear took them off before she killed it."

Michonne looked like she was finally starting to believe them. "Well, damn."

"So I guess you didn't see any of them out there, huh?" Carl asked again, somewhat disappointed.

"Actually," Michonne started and Carl's head picked up in interest. She continued, "there was a very strange man I saw. Because I am avoiding the slave hunter, I did not stay on the road. I crossed the countryside through the wilderness. Not very long ago, I was looking out over a forested cliff down into a wide, grassy valley. There was a man down there. He was alone and no horse or even a pack of supplies. He was walking very strangely as well. Like he was hobbling, going very slow and holding one arm uselessly at his side. His clothes appeared ratty but I wasn't close enough to get a good look. I went the other way to avoid him. He never saw me."

Sophia's eyes were wide. "That was one of them," she said with a definite sureness. "You were lucky to get away so easily."

Michonne nodded then frowned. "These wendigos sound like zombi. Among the slaves, there are stories from Africa of creatures like this. A Voodoo sorcerer called a bokor can revive a dead person. However, they do not come back as they were. They are a soulless creature with no mind."

"Maybe that's how this started. Maybe an Indian sorcerer brought someone back to life by calling a demon to possess it," Carl mused.

"I don't care if it is called a wendigo or a zombi or walkers or what! They are scary!" Sophia spoke out, crossing her arms over her chest in defense even as she still lay on the floor.

"I wonder if cutting their heads off, like with a sword, would kill them? Or would you then still have the body running around blind and the head trying to hop along after you since it can still see and bite?" Carl asked, his eyes sparkling thinking of all the different possible ways to kill one of the undead monsters. He ignored the dirty look Sophia aimed at him.

"I'll find out next time I see one," Michonne told them, her voice somber at the prospect.

Carl continued speaking his thoughts out loud. "What if you cut off their jaws? You could even cut off their arms? Then they couldn't bite or scratch you. You could wrap chains around them and walk them around like pets!"

"Carl, stop it!" Sophia shriek at him, smacking him on the shoulder to emphasize her seriousness.

"Ow, okay!" Carl said with mock outrage, rubbing his shoulder. He was trying to hide a smile at having provoked her.

Before any of them could say another word, there was a sharp knock at the front door downstairs. They all went silent, eyes wide with surprise. Then Michonne motioned for them to close the trapdoor as she went into the depths of the attic to hide. Sophia was taller than Carl, a fact she did not let the boy forget despite him being a whole four months older than her, so she carefully shut the trapdoor with as little sound as possible.

At the top of the stairs, Sophia turned to him and whispered, "Find my mom and Daryl in the corn field. Go out the back door."

Carl shook his head. "I better know who it is first. What if it is my dad or mom coming to get me?"

Sophia considered this, her mouth twisting in concentrate as she debated with herself whether or not to force the issue. The loud knocking came again, making them jump. "One moment," she called out loudly as they came down the stairs. To Carl she said in a whisper, "Okay, go into the living room and look out the window. If it's anyone except them, go get the grown-ups out the back." Carl nodded and went into the living room.

Sophia put the most polite expression on her face and then opened the door. When she saw that it was Philip Blake, the bounty hunter searching for Michonne, a flash of fear ran through her. However, she was careful to keep her face nice and neutral.

"Good morning, Mr. Blake. How can I help you?" she asked, trying to mimic how her mother would greet an unexpected visitor.

He smiled sweetly at her but she didn't trust his goodwill for one second. "Well hello there, little lady. Are your parents at home?" She found it unnerving for him to be looking right at her with just the one eye. She wondered briefly what his other eye looked like under the white, rose-embroidered eye patch. Then she decided she didn't want to know.

"Yes, but they are working in the corn field right now. They will be back in this afternoon. Perhaps you could return then?" She cursed herself, wishing she hadn't phrased that last part as a question.

"Oh, I'm sorry, dear girl. I've got a lot of ground to cover today and won't have the time to come back to this side of town. I just want to have a look around." His smile became forced and it scared her. She hoped Carl had already gone to get her mom and Daryl.

'I'm sorry, sir. I cannot let you in without them," Sophia explained. Surely he understood he was a stranger to her.

"You know I'm searching for a dangerous slave. She has killed people before. I doubt she'd hesitate to kill you or your family if she felt threatened. Why don't you just let me make sure she isn't stalking around your property?" The Governor took a step forward, closer to the doorway.

"No. Please return another time. This is our property, not yours. And people aren't property either!" She regretted saying it the moment the words left her mouth. Philip tilted his head, his one eye narrowing in suspicion. Recovering, Sophia said, "Good day," and closed the door in his face.

Before she could throw the lock, the door crashed open. It smashed into her, knocking her backwards against the stairs. She let out a small cry of fright as he stepped inside the house.

Grabbing her arm, he hauled her body off the stairs. "The bitch is here, isn't she?!" he screamed in her face. "Tell me!" He shook her and she had visions of her father shaking her like that.

"Don't touch her!" she heard Carl cry from the doorway to the living room. He hadn't gone to get the adults, too afraid to leave Sophia alone with this dangerous man.

Sophia wrenched her arm out of his grasp with his attention distracted by Carl. She ran for the back door, hoping Carl was right behind her. Unfortunately, he wasn't. The boy had charged at the Governor, making his friend's escape possible. Otherwise, he would have easily caught her. It was noble effort on Carl's part but he was no match for the strength of a grown man who regularly fought with slaves desperate not to be sent back into the hell of subservience. The Governor slammed his fist into Carl's face and the boy dropped to the floor. He was unconscious.

The Governor heard the back door close with bang and he was off after Sophia. She was halfway across the yard to the corn field before he apprehended her. He snagged the collar of her dress, ripping the fabric and causing her to be yanked backwards. She let out a blood-curdling scream as she fell backwards.

He slapped her hard across the face, making her bite off the scream from the shock of it. "Where is she?" he roared at her.

"Right here."

He turned at the unexpected voice behind him. "Michonne." It almost seemed like he was saying her name with reverence but it was really because after all this time, he couldn't believe she was now standing right in front of him.

Michonne had the katana sword held in front of her as she stared him down. "Let the girl go," she instructed him.

He smiled at her, his face creepy and evil with malevolence. "And let you just run me through. I don't think so."

"Sophia!" Carol's voice came out high and terrified as she and Daryl ran out of the corn. Daryl had his crossbow up and loaded, pointing right at Philip. He stopped short about a dozen feet from the maniac and held out his arm to stop Carol as well.

"You better get yer fuckin' hands offa her before I take yer other eye out," Daryl warned him.

Philip backed up a little to be able to see both Daryl and Carol on one side and Michonne on the other. He dragged Sophia with him. He stood her in front of him, his hands on her shoulders to keep her still. "You make any move against me and I'll snap this little girl's neck." To accentuate his point, he ran one hand around her neck. It was gently, like a loving gesture but it had a deadly significance.

The tension was sickening. Michonne gripped the sword, glaring daggers at him. Carol's eyes were huge with fear for the life of her child. Daryl had the crossbow precisely aimed for the Governor's open eye. Philip smirked, knowing they were in a stalemate and he still could get what he wanted.

Not realizing any danger could come from the small form he held before him, he was caught off-guard as Sophia slammed the heel of her boot into his foot as hard as she could. Crying out in pain, he inadvertently loosened his grip on her shoulders. Sophia threw her body to the ground, rolling away from him.

Seeing the opening, the two adults with ready weapons took full advantage of the opportunity. Daryl let loose the bolt, which hit Philip right in the eye and traveled straight into the brain. Half a second later, Michonne thrust the blade of her katana through her tormentor's chest with a grunt of effort. It buried itself up to the hilt. The body swayed on its feet for a couple seconds before falling to the ground.

The Governor was dead.


	46. Chapter 46

Hey everyone! Sorry this chapter is a little later than normal. I have two excuses. First, this weekend was my first wedding anniversary. My husband and I celebrated by going to the play Wicked. It was fabulous! Everything I disliked about the book was fixed in the play. Highly recommended. Second is blamed on Haitus80. I was desperate to catch up on reading her wonderful story "Saints and Sinners." It is a thrilling murder-mystery AU featuring all our favorite characters. Go check it out!

Wow, this chapter ended up being much longer than I thought it would be!

I do not own The Walking Dead or The Twilight Zone but I love those who do.

**Chapter 46**

Sophia tried to stifle her weeping. She hated feeling like a weak, helpless child. Of course, she was a frightened girl who's life had just been threatened by a ruthless psychopath. She had lived in fear of Ed for her entire life but never had she felt so acutely in danger as when the Governor held her. She could still feel his hands on her shoulders, running down her cheek, across her neck.

Carol held her crying daughter, trying to offer her all the comfort she could. She had been so afraid that the slave hunter was going to kill her baby. The look in his eye of pure malevolence mixed with the determination of finding his prey had shaken her to the core. He would have done anything to find her, even murdering an innocent child. She felt nothing but gratitude to Daryl and Michonne for ending it, even if it was gruesome to watch.

Michonne wrenched her sword out of the dead man's chest and wiped the red blood off on her already stained pants. Daryl was examining where his bolt was sticking out of Philip's head, debating on whether or not he should pull it out. He touched it, winced as the head tilted towards him and then decided to leave it in place.

Carol looked up at him as she cradled Sophia and gave him a tight-lipped little smile. His lips quirked up slightly in response. He liked that she seemed to be conveying to him that what he had done was the right move. It was the first time he'd ever killed a man. At least a living one.

Sophia pulled out of Carol's arms suddenly, leaping to her feet. "Carl!" she cried, remembering him attacking the Governor as she was running out of the house. The tall man come out unscathed very soon after her, making her fear the worst for Carl. She ran with desperation.

"He was breathing when I passed by him!" Michonne called out behind her as she ran. She didn't slow one bit. The adults followed behind her.

Carl was sitting up on the floor of the foyer, next to the open front door. He was rubbing his head gingerly. There was already a large bruise forming on his forehead by his right eye. He groaned when Sophia slid on the floor next to him and flung her arms around him.

"Ow! My head hurts, Sophia," he cautioned her.

She instantly pulled back but kept her hands on his arms. "Sorry. I thought he killed you."

The adults came in then. Carol closed the door and they all looked down at the children.

"What the hell happened?" Daryl growled. "How'd he git in here?"

Sophia answered, not taking her eyes off Carl while she spoke. She told them how he'd come to the door, acting very pleasant right until she denied him entrance. Daryl's face getting more and more agitated as her story went on until it looked he was going to go out back and kick the dead body. Carol must have noticed it too because she laid a gentle hand on his arm and Sophia could see him visibly relax somewhat under her mother's touch.

"I need to get out of here. The Sheriff will find out about this," Michonne stated as she started climbing the stairs quickly.

"No!" Carol shouted. Everyone looked towards her at such an uncharacteristic outburst. "You're staying right here. You are a human being and Sheriff Grimes knows that. He's a good man. He'll understand. We should tell him." For a moment, nobody spoke, contemplating her words.

"She's right," Daryl affirmed. "You ain't runnin' no more." He glanced at Carl. "Ya think yer old man will come through fer us?"

Carl nodded his head but then groaned again, the movement sending a burst of pain behind his eyes. He had a wicked headache.

"Good, then I know just how to tell him bout this. Can ya walk back to town?" Daryl directed at Carl.

"Yes," Carl answered in a pained voice. "Is that asshole really dead?"

"Carl!" Sophia and Carol yelled in unison at his foul language. Michonne did not respond to it at all, remaining her stoic self as she stood on the stairs.

Daryl smirked. "Yeah, that mother fucker is dead twice over," he chuckled. Then his expression became serious. "I need you three ta stay here. Lock the doors," he directed Carol, Sophia and Michonne. To Carl he said, "Come on. We're gonna go see yer daddy."

**XXXXXXXXX**

The town was quiet and Sheriff Rick Grimes sat at the desk in the sheriff's station. To the casual observer, it would look like he was filling out paperwork. However, upon closer examination, they would see that he was merely holding the pen with the paper in front of him. No actual writing was happening.

His mind was in turmoil and he was trying to work it all out. Shane's death had been a blow. Not even taking into account that Shane had been his deputy, Rick had considered the man his best friend. Yet, the more Rick sat and thought about Shane's actions over the past several months, the more he became convinced that Shane had wanted him gone. He made it clear that he wanted Rick's job, his wife, his authority. Did he really think he'd be able to just walk into that role after murdering him in a shoot-out? Perhaps he was more delusional and power-hungry than Rick originally assumed.

The fact that he had not actually been the one to kill Shane had been like a great weight lifted off his shoulders. He knew that he would have done it if it came to that. Shane had become a danger and no amount of talking would have brought his sanity back in that moment. Not long enough to stop him from shooting his gun, killing Rick or an innocent bystander. No, Philip Blake had taken that responsibility onto himself.

Rick's thoughts shifted to the tall bounty hunter. Just his profession alone of hunting down people who were looking to escape oppression was despicable to Rick. He knew that as the sheriff in a US territory like Colorado, he was supposed to up hold all the laws. That included the Slavery Act, even if he hated it. It didn't mean that he actively had to participate in finding the slave woman. Blake was on his own with that and he wouldn't force any of his citizens to comply with the man's wishes, whether that be searches of their properties or intimidating interviews.

Despite the fact that the man had taken Shane down for him and saving him the trouble of doing it, the stunt he had pulled afterwards had been revolting. On retrospection, it made Rick distrust Philip more than he already had previously. It was a selfish action, wanting to see Shane resurrect into a monster. Lori and all the people who had been watching were forced to witness that.

He wondered briefly if Lori would have accepted Shane into her life with him gone. Shane had basically blurted out that she'd said something to that effect. Rick quickly pushed those negative thoughts aside. They didn't matter now. He loved his wife desperately; she was the light in his life and the mother to his child.

Yesterday when he'd guided her home afterwards, she had been in hysterics. She had chokingly told him that she had been so afraid for him and that she would never have left him. Even though he knew she and Shane had been close, and maybe even closer than he'd known, he believed her words. Unexpectedly, an idea came into his mind. He wanted another child. Carl would do well with a sibling and it would be a happy event to help off-set all the recent bloodshed. Maybe it would be a little girl.

The door behind him swung open and Daryl Dixon strolled in with no knocking or introductions. The odd crossbow weapon bounced a little on his back. He stopped in front of the desk, a serious look on his face as he put both hands on the edge and leaned in to look Rick right in the eye.

"That asshole slave hunter's dead," he stated matter-of-factly. He deliberately used Carl's word for the maniac.

Rick stood up quickly, his desk chair scrapping loudly across the floor as his brain tried to wrap around Daryl's statement. "What?"

"Ya heard me. Motherfucker is dead as a doornail. Came to Carol's house, threatened to kill Sophia if we didn't hand over the woman. Had ta be done."

Daryl's explanation did nothing to relieve Rick's confusion. "He threatened to kill Sophia?"

"Hell, yeah. Had his filthy hands on her. Said he'd snap her neck if we didn't give 'em what he wanted," Daryl said, disgust lacing his tone.

"So you killed him." Even though it came out as a statement, it was more of a question confirming what Daryl was saying. Daryl nodded. The gruff man held Rick's eyes firmly. There was no remorse, no fear in them.

Rick now had a clear picture of what had happened at the Peletier farm. He wasn't happy. He pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers, trying to relieve the massive headache he felt coming on. "You didn't actually have the slave woman, right? It was a completely unprovoked attack." Rick's voice sounded like he was trying to find a way out for Daryl.

"Nah. We had her up in the attic." Daryl said nonchalantly.

"Shit! Are you kidding?" Rick looked like he was going to have a coronary. The little vein in his forehead was starting to pulsate. "Do you want me to arrest you or something?" he shouted, exasperated.

Daryl shrugged. "Yer boy's the one who took her in. Stashed her in yer root cellar till we moved her ta the attic."

It would have been comical the way Rick's eyes seemed to be bugging out of the sockets if the situation weren't so serious. Even knowing the possible consequences of telling the sheriff, Daryl couldn't help to smirk a little at the man's reaction. He heard Rick huff out his son's name in disbelief.

"Where is he?" Rick ground out between his teeth.

"Ya might wanna take it easy on the kid. He's had a rough day," Daryl told him then turned towards the door. "Carl!"

The boy walked through the door but paused when he saw his father's face. It seemed to morph from anger to extreme concern in a beat. They could both see the darkening bruise extending from Carl's forehead down past his eye and cover the top of his cheek. His eyes were red-rimmed and bleary from pain.

"Are you mad, dad?" Carl asked, his voice small and childish, as if he knew he was going to be punished for bad behavior.

Rick walked over to his son slowly, his fingers brushing along the wound. Carl flinched from the contact but his eyes stayed steady on his fathers'.

Flicking his eyes to Daryl for one spare moment before returning them to Carl, he asked "Did Blake do this?" His voice was barely restraining his rage.

Daryl answered. "Yep. Carl was tryin' ta defend Sophia. Fucker knocked him unconscious for it. But Carl did good; gave Sophia enough time ta get outside and scream fer us in the corn field."

Carl couldn't help but smile a little at the praise from Daryl. Rick felt some of the fury drain out of him. He kneeled down and very tenderly hugged his son. "No Carl, I'm not mad," Rick answered his son's earlier question. Carl brought his arms around his dad, completing the hug. "I just need to know why."

Carl spoke without releasing his grip on Rick. "She needed help, dad. She was starving and frightened. That man was coming to kill her because she took his eye. She never killed anyone before; he was lying."

Rick pulled back but still held the boys shoulders. "You know I'm the sheriff. You know that means I have to follow the laws, right?"

"Dad, I always thought you were the kind of man who didn't just do the lawful thing but did the right thing. This was right and I wanted to be like you." Carl's voice cracked with the last words.

Daryl watched Rick's face crumple in emotion at hearing his son's declaration. "No Carl. You're better than me." It only lasted a split second longer and then Rick sniffed and got himself under control. He stood up and faced Daryl. "Take me to the body. Then I can decide the best way to handle this without arresting anyone. We'll figure out what to do with the slave woman after that. Hopefuly, the North will win the war shortly and there won't be such a thing as slavery in this country anymore." Daryl nodded in agreement at that statement.

The three of them walked out of the station. Andrea was out in front of the saloon. She waved but only Carl waved back. The other two were completely absorbed in something coming down the road. It looked like a horse but it was walking slowly. Even Andrea was now focused on the strange site, her resting on her forehead to block out the glare of the sun.

As it neared a little closer, Daryl realized with horror what they were seeing. "Sky!" he cried and took off in a hard run towards his horse. There was a figure hunched over on her back. Her saddle and other riding gear were missing. She had left with his brother and it was the only logical choice. The figure, obviously weakened, slid off her back, no longer able to keep himself upright.

"Merle!" Daryl screamed. His knees hit the dirt as he rolled the figure over on his back. Rick, Carl and Andrea came up behind him, their eyes wide. Daryl's breath hitched in his throat. It wasn't Merle.

It was Walking Bird.

The Sioux brave was in bad shape. They could all see the large bite ripped out of his abdomen and long scratches running down his arm. The wendigo's fingers had penetrated right through his leather clothing. Walking Bird was burning up with fever, his face even more red than normal.

"Walking Bird, where's Merle?" Daryl asked desperately. Surely he'd seen Merle, who'd been the last person with Sky.

The Indian man's voice sounded like it was being hauled over gravel as he spoke. "Horse came alone."

Daryl filed that information away to be processed later. If Merle was dead, he'd deal with that fact when he didn't have a man dying right in front of him. "What happened to you?"

"Wendigos…attacked village. Horse warned us." Walking Bird feebly raised his hand to indicate Sky. Then he gripped the front of Daryl's shirt, his hold stronger than Daryl would have thought he'd be able to muster. "Demons coming. Follow behind me…"

This warning captured Rick's full attention, snapping him into protector mode. As the Sheriff of Quarry, he needed as many details as possible on a threat like this. "Wendigos are coming here? How many?"

Walking Bird seemed to struggle to find the correct word to convey the figure. He looked confused and fearful, like he just could not pick out the right number from his brain. Then he blurted out "Herd."

"A herd of them?"

He nodded and then gasped, his hand flying to his throat. "Kill me!" he howled. Blood droplets sprayed out his mouth, making everyone recoil away from the dying man except Daryl. He gently touched Walking Bird's shoulder in comfort. Then he stood up, swinging the crossbow off his back. Walking Bird nodded, eyes on the mysterious weapon that had so captivated his attention that it had opened up his world to Daryl Dixon.

"Thank you brother," Daryl said before releasing the bolt.


	47. Chapter 47

Hi all! Sorry this chapter took a little longer than normal. I was having some serious writer's block on it. Writing things, deleting them, writing more. I finally think I have got it where I want it but let me know if you see any problems with it. Also got slammed at work. Ever see a comatose hamster? I now have and it was weird. No idea what caused it. Luckily, the little guy did wake up and is back to normal now!

I do not own The Walking Dead or The Twilight Zone but I love those who do.

**Chapter 47**

The group gathered around the unmoving body of Walking Bird, their eyes wide. They were in shock, both at the condition he was in at the end as well as the warning he conveyed. All of them but Daryl, that is. The man was staring out towards the horizon from the direction Walking Bird had come from. His body was tense, ready for action. He grabbed Sky's reins and began stalking off back towards the Peletier farm.

Rick's head whipped up to Daryl's retreating back. "Daryl!" he called out, jogging to catch up to him.

Daryl whirled around. He looked really pissed off. "What? I can't just stand here gaping at a dead body like an idiot. Once this shit is over, I'll come back and give him the respect he deserves. But not now. I probably lost ma brother today to these fucking wendigos and I ain't gonna lose anyone else," he proclaimed and spun back around.

Breaking in to a run, Rick caught up with him and matched his pace as he walked along the road with Sky. "Daryl, I'm sorry about Merle. He turned out to be a much better person than I ever realized. But there isn't anything we can do to help him right now. We need you Daryl. This town isn't going to make it through this without you. Help me." Rick gripped Daryl's shoulder, halting the man's forward progress. Daryl wrenched his shoulder away from Rick's hand but he did stop and eyeball the sheriff. "Please," Rick implored him.

Daryl glanced back at Andrea and Carl, who were watching the scene intently. There was fear on their faces. He sighed heavily, his body seeming to relax slightly. "Damn it. Carol's gonna wanna help. She's all carin' like that. Okay, I'm in. But if she's in trouble, I'm ditchin' ya'll. Ya got that?"

Rick nodded in understanding. "Of course." Rick scanned the horizon like Daryl had done before. He squinted his eyes, trying to detect any visible threat. "How long do you think we have?"

Daryl shrugged. "He was on horseback so movin' faster than the herd. Maybe an hour; two if he got a good head start. What do ya want me ta do?"

Rick motioned Andrea and Carl to them. "I've got an idea. We need to get everyone in town over to Herschel's barn as fast as possible. Are you with me people?"

Everyone nodded seriously at him and then headed in their separate directions in a hurry. Rick took Carl home. After Lori got over her horror at seeing her son's bruised face, she heeded Rick's warning and gathered all the weapons in the house they had. This included her little pocket gun as well as a large shot gun that had been her father's. They then locked the house tight and went to the sheriff's station. They proceeded to load every gun and all the ammunition stored there into a large bag. On the way out, they ran into Andrea.

She had Amy, Milton and T-Dog with her and were making a beeline for Dale's General Store. Andrea clutched her own shot gun. Since that was usually all it took to keep the rabble under control at the bar, it was all the sisters had. T-Dog had his own pistol, which was one of the first possessions he purchased after being freed from slavery. It was like a true mark of his independence to live as a free man. Milton also had a pistol. Not that he was overly familiar with using it but his editor had presented it to him at the train station where the first leg of his began. He'd initially been wary of the weapon but now he gripped it as if it were a lifeline.

"Get Dale and Glenn then head over to the Jones farm" Rick directed them. "We're going straight to the Greene farm to get things ready." Andrea complied and the little group disappeared into the General Store.

On the other side of the town, Daryl pushed Sky into a run as he passed by the little schoolhouse. He felt panic trying to well-up inside of him but he consciously willed it back down into his gut. It was like he couldn't move fast enough to get back to the farm. Part of him felt bad for driving Sky so hard, especially considering Daryl had no idea what she had been through since he last saw her yesterday morning. However, she seemed to be taking it well and he made a silent promise to her. After all this was over, she would get a much deserved rest and lots of sweet treats.

Riding her right to Carol's door, he leapt off the horse and bolted inside, knowing Sky would not wander far. "Carol! Sophia!" he screamed. For a second, he had this horrible sense that they weren't there. They'd left or been killed or turned into demons. His heart felt like it was going to explode out of his chest, his mouth dry.

"Hey," Carol came down the hallway from the kitchen, a bright smile on her face. "I see Sheriff Rick didn't arrest you. Did he say anything about Michonne? He's not going to send her back, right?" Studying the look on his face, she frowned. "What's wrong? Did he say he was sending her back?"

Daryl swallowed. "No. It's so much worse than that. They're comin'."

"Who?" she asked, stepping closer to him and touching his arm.

"The wendigos. A whole fucking herd of them. There ain't much time so we gotta all get down ta the Greene barn. Now." He seized her hand and pulled her into the kitchen. Sophia and Michonne were at the table, eating lunch. Before either of them could open their mouths, Daryl blurted out. "Let's go, both of ya. A shitstorm is headed this way. Carol, get yer gun."

**XXXXXXXXX**

It took less than half an hour to get the entire town gathered in Herschel's huge barn. Rick was impressed with everyone's response time. Not one person had argued about the urgency of the situation. They all seemed scared but none of them were panicking. It made him proud that in a time of emergency, he could count on Quarry to stand up for itself.

He outlined his plan to them in a clear, confident voice. Some people initially disagreed with his thoughts but once he thoroughly explained the logic behind the plan, the questions stopped. By the time he was finished, all of them knew their different roles and were ready to participate. Not only that, but he had made it plain that if Walking Bird had not come with his warning, few of them would have survived the coming onslaught. They'd owed their lives to the Sioux brave. He saw Daryl tilt his head at him, conveying his thanks for acknowledging the sacrifice of his friend.

Even though he knew there was precious little time before the herd came through, he decided to take just a moment to encourage his people.

"Listen, all of you. I have know you for years and I trust that you will all do your very best to help save this town. I don't know what's happening out there in the rest of the world but right now, it doesn't matter. What matters is us, here and now. Some of us may fall but they will fall knowing they have helped save others. I'm proud of you. We will survive this." Some people were smiling at him, others had tears in their eyes while others were nodding seriously at his words. He felt a swell of satisfaction in his chest, knowing he would rather have these people by his side than the entire United States Army. "Let's go kill these rotting demon walkers!" With a cheer of concurrence, the townsfolk leapt into action. Everyone moved in different directions.

Carol hugged Sophia fiercely. "You listen to what the adults say and stay as quiet as you can. We're going to get through this and I'll see you when it's all over. I love you, baby." She was crying, the tears flowing freely at the thought of Sophia not being with her. Yet, she knew it was safer that Sophia be with all the other children.

"I love you too, Mama," Sophia wiped away her mother's tears, causing Carol to smile at her brave daughter. Then Sophia turned and latched onto Daryl in a tight hug. The man tensed up, unsure what to do with this young girl clinging to him. Then he relaxed, actually wrapping his arms around her protectively. He looked nervous still but his gaze down at her blonde head was more like a father's than Ed had ever looked at her. Carol had to turn away to hide the gush of tears at seeing that.

Carl came over then and took Sophia's hand. She waved solemnly as the boy lead her away. Carol took note of the gun sticking out of his back waistband. Normally something like that would make her nervous but now it made her more secure sending her daughter with him. He was the sheriff's son and had been taught to shoot. More importantly, he was Sophia's best friend and would fight tooth-and-nail to protect her.

She saw Sheriff Rick passing guns out to anyone that didn't have one. He was also distributing boxes of ammunition around evenly to each group. It looked like he'd raided the whole Quarry stockpile of weapons. It made her a little concerned about what they would do if they were never able to re-establish contact with the outside world. How would they survive against the dangers like wendigos and outlaws if they ran out of firearms and bullets? Then again, if using them now could save their lives, then there was no other choice.

Daryl left first, riding Sky to scout ahead for any signs that the herd was already upon them. Then all those designated to be on the other side of town left together, including Carol, Michonne, Andrea, Amy, Milton and Dale. They walked quickly on foot, keeping as quiet as possible. At the saloon, Amy, Dale and Milton broke off. There was a lot of hugging between them and Andrea. She even gave Milton a little kiss, which had the man smiling and blushing all at once. Those three would be manning the horse stable behind the bar. It was behind the main street and not as easy to get too surrounded by buildings. Hopefully they would have minimal activity there.

Andrea continued on with Carol and Michonne. It had been determined that since the Peletier farm was the furthest removed from the main staging area, only three people would be needed to monitor it. Andrea had been very kind to volunteer to help there since it was only Carol and Michonne.

As they passed the little schoolhouse and came upon the farm, Daryl rode back towards them on Sky.

"Way's all clear, fer now at least. Gonna help ya'll set up and then I gotta go," he told them as he lead them to the dairy barn. Then he gracefully slid off Sky and got to work.

They moved efficiently as a group, securing Bessie on the far side of the barn. Unfortunately, they had to dismantle the chicken coup in order to get it the barn. Because of the rush, the whole thing was going to need to be rebuilt later. However, it would be worth it if they could save the birds. After the ravaging of Herschel's flock, there were few chickens left in Quarry and no one knew how soon, if ever, supplies would be coming again. It was important to at least try to save them.

Carol came running out of the house with two large blankets. One she threw over the detached chicken coup that was now in the middle of the barn. Most birds just go to sleep when covered, thinking the darkness is indicative of night. Hopefully, they would not make any noise as the herd moved through. Outside, she threw the other blanket over the corpse of the Governor. There was no time to move it and even though it would make no difference to the wendigos, it made her feel better not to look at the dead man.

The other three came out of the house carrying furniture. Chairs, tables, a coat stand, whatever they could carry. They were propped against the barn door, which had been nailed shut. With any luck, the barrier would hold. The same procedure was being done at the saloon stable as well as the Jones' farm.

With their guns loaded and ready, the three women headed over to the hay barn. They would be taking their place up in the hay loft, which had a window with a perfect view of the dairy barn. If the creatures did try breaking into that barn to get the animals, they could shoot them from the window.

At the entrance of the building, Carol turned to Daryl. He needed to go. She knew that, even though it hurt her to think of what he needed to do. He, Rick and T-Dog had the most dangerous job of all of them, luring the herd into their trap. She studied his face, trying to remember every line and every curve in case she never got to see him again.

Unable to stop herself, she leaned in for a kiss. She just wanted to feel his lips on hers one more time. She saw his eyes flick nervously to Andrea and Michonne. The dark woman was as stoic as ever but Andrea was smirking at them. Carol took into consideration Daryl's phobic nature when it came to public touching and backed off, giving him a tight-lipped smile instead. She refused to say good-bye, not wanting it to seem like she didn't think she would see him again. He looked uncomfortable by the whole exchange.

As she moved away from him, not wanting to prolong things, his hand snapped out and wrapped around her wrist. "Fuck it," he growled and pulled her into his arms. His other hand pressed on the back of her neck as his mouth captured hers in a passionate kiss. Her body was pressed tight against him as he poured all his emotions for her into that kiss. It left her breathless and lightheaded as he pulled away.

"Stay safe," he told her in low, concerned voice.

"Nine lives, remember," she assured him, not really sure where those words had come from but they seemed right. He nodded in agreement and left, climbing back on Sky to head out to the road.

Andrea could not contain herself any longer. The giggles just kind of exploded out of her. "Damn, that was hot! I know you said that Daryl was good but I think a part of me didn't really believe you. I mean, this is a man who can barely talk to a woman let alone touching one. Until you. Just watching you two made me hot and bothered."

"Shut up," muttered Carol, who could not keep the smile off her face. Even Michonne seemed to be smirking at their exchange. Together, the three women climbed up the ladder and waited for the show to start.

_Hey everyone! I am going to apologize in advance for the delay on the next chapter. I am going to Atlantic City this weekend for a bachelorette party and have no idea about time to write or internet availability. Sorry!_


	48. Chapter 48

Hey everyone! Welcome to part one of the grand finale of this story! I think it is going to top out at 50 chapters. I must say that I did write part of this in Atlantic City at the bachelorette party. I had a great rhythm going but then the male strippers came in and I got a little distracted. Hopefully it won't reflect in the telling of the story.

I do not own The Walking Dead or The Twilight Zone but I love those who do.

**Chapter 48**

The first one came into sight almost exactly two hours after Walking Bird's warning. It was far away, just a black shape against the blue sky. A quick glance would not have garnered much notice from a casual observer but even at this distance, Daryl could make out the uncanny shuffling of the creature. He sat on Sky, the reins loose until now. Another one came into view, smaller than the first one but was followed by more and more. There seemed to be waves of them cresting over the horizon. They were headed in his direction, seeking out the prey that has escaped them earlier.

While he had only been waiting about ten minutes, he had been fidgeting, picking at a rough spot on his trousers. He'd never been good at just killing time. His mind had drifted back to the kiss he'd shared with Carol. He'd been so nervous when she'd leaned in like that, although he wasn't even sure what he had been afraid of. He could tell she saw his panic and had backed off, smiling to reassure him that it was okay. Yet, when she turned away from him, he couldn't bear the thought of never touching her again. If he died, he wanted her to be the very last pleasant thing in his life. The kiss had been mind-blowing, both of their bodies already pumping adrenalin from the eminent danger.

Shaking his head to dispel the sweet but distracting memory of her, he centered his attention back on the situation at hand. He had positioned himself on the road in between his house and the Peletier farm. He wanted to make sure none of the undead wandered in her direction. They should all be focused on him and Sky. It was the most dangerous part of the plan but he had volunteered for it, not trusting anyone else with the role. If his timing was off, he'd be a dead man. He hoped that the rest of the groups were ready as they were cutting it close with preparations.

They were getting closer. He wondered just how many there were because more were coming into sight. Most of them were white, dressed in the typical fashion of the day. A small number of them were Indians and he feared they might have been from the Sioux village. There were some children mixed in too, which was disturbing to see but he ignored that feeling. He had to remember they were all murderous creatures, even the little ones.

The ones leading the herd saw him. They picked up the pace of their shambling movements, their arms now stretching to reach for him. He could almost hear their growling and hissing more clearly. It was like they were so desperate to grab him but they just could not force their broken bodies to respond quicker. However, he noticed some of the outlying ones were veering off away, not realizing he was there.

"Hey assholes! Come and get it!" he shouted at the top of his lungs. That got their attention. Now every one of them was making a beeline right for his position. Good.

Sky started to act a little nervous as the first smells of their foul, rotting odor wafted over them. Daryl put a calming hand on her neck, gently rubbing her. The undead moved closer still but Daryl waited. He counted slowly to five. He might not have been able to read but he could at least count that high.

The wendigo in front had been a woman. It had most likely been a very pretty woman in real life. It was tall and thin with long blonde hair and wearing a stylish red dress. Yet, now it was a demon-possessed monster. The skin on its face had become desiccated, pulling back off its mouth to reveal a grim smile of brown, blood-stained teeth. This one had been feeding. As it got within a ten-foot border of him, Daryl pulled Sky's right-hand rein, spinning her around. He dug his heels into her sides and she took off at a gallop away from the approaching herd.

He spared one small glance at the hay barn where he knew Carol was stationed as he went by the farm. Then he raced headlong down the dirt road with Sky, drawing the wendigos after him. The flight of their prey spurned them on even faster as they poured down the road.

Daryl adjusted Sky just slightly over to the side of the road as he approached the body of Walking Bird still lying in the road where he died. There had not even been time to cover him, let alone move him. The creatures wouldn't bother him though; he was beyond where they could hurt him. He murmured an apology to his friend as he hurtled past.

The main street of Quarry was empty, as it should have been. He knew that T-Dog was hidden in the saloon, watching behind carefully boarded up slats. His job was almost as dangerous as Daryl's, if things didn't go according to plan. If the individuals in the back of the herd did not continue to move towards the Greene farm, T-Dog was to jump on a horse in the saloon stable and attempt to attract the rebels in the direction they needed to go. Of course, this would alert Amy, Dale and Milton to get to the second floor to shoot those stragglers down. Hopefully they wouldn't hit T-Dog. Daryl wasn't quite sure how good of a shot any of them were.

He spotted Rick on horseback just where the man was supposed to be waiting for him, at the very edge of the main thoroughfare of the town. It was at the fork in the road, one way going to the Jones farm and the other to the Greene farm. At the Jones farm, Jimmy was watching from the pig barn like T-Dog for those wendigos that veered off incorrectly. Morgan, Jenny and Patricia were his back-up.

"Incoming!" Daryl yelled to the sheriff as he flew past him on Sky. Rick's eyes widened at the sheer number of rotting, flesh-eating monsters coming at him. He pivoted his large thoroughbred around, the animal skittish at the horde chasing Daryl. Urging the beast onward, they ran for their lives.

Rick's hat blew off his head from the force of the wind. He reached up to grab it but was just a second too late. Glancing behind him, he saw it hit the dirt on its side and roll. One of the approaching wendigos grabbed up the moving object and ripped into it with its teeth. Just watching the thick cloth be torn apart was enough to send a spike of terror through Rick's heart. If any of these creatures laid hands on a person, that was exactly what they would do to them.

They were able to put some distance between themselves and the herd as they closed in on the Greene farm. Rick knew everyone was prepared; he'd made sure of that before he'd left for his own posting. Any distractions that might have drawn the attention of the undead away from the two men on horseback had been removed. All the beef cattle had been hurried far out into farthest pasture and even now were still being moved further out into the countryside. Axel, Oscar and Martinez were guarding them, all heavily armed. All the other people were hidden out of sight. For now, that is.

The huge barn appeared empty. The great front doors stood open, the inside black in contrast to the bright sunlight of the outside. It was almost creepy considering how bustling with activity it had been not even a half hour earlier. Except for the rumbling of the horses' hooves, it was silent out. Not even the birds were singing, perhaps able to sense the oncoming unnatural threat.

Daryl, followed closely by Rick, guided Sky right into the massive barn. He pulled back on the reins, stopping her in place just inside the barn. Rick did not pause, his horse rushing past and through the length of the structure. There was a smaller door next to the stage in the back, although it was still larger than an average door. Luckily it was big enough to fit a man riding a horse and stood open invitingly. Daryl watched Rick ride right through it.

Before Daryl's eyes could adjust to the dim lighting, he twisted his head and shoulders around to evaluate what was going on with the herd. He wanted to make sure they'd seen him enter the barn. They had and were headed right for him. Enticing them even more, he let out a loud whistle. It echoed off slightly off the walls of the barn, which was now empty of all chairs and equipment. All that remained were piles and piles of hay.

The lead walker, now a dead Indian brave, crossed the threshold into the barn. Digging in his heels, he spurred Sky on to the back door. Once he was back out into the open air, he whirled the horse around and watched as the frenzied dead brave come for him. The wendigo ran fast considering his muscles and tendons were rotting. Daryl could see the thing's hazy blue eyes staring intently at him as it got closer. There was no indication of human thought in those eyes, only animalistic hunger. More creatures were behind it, mindlessly pursuing him.

Just a split second before the monster left the barn, the door slammed close in front of it. Karen and Lori were hiding behind it, watching for just the right moment to cut off the exit. The two women braced their bodies against the door as the running corpse crashed into it. Then came the frenzied pounding of numerous demons trying to break through the door and surrounding wall. They struggled to keep the door in place. Lori gave a little cry as the door started to open but she dug her heels into the ground and pushed even harder against the deadly force.

Daryl and Rick were off their horses in a flash, taking over the door for the women. Lori quickly grabbed the reins of the two horses, leading them away to safety. Meanwhile, Karen was hefting up a long, thick wooden board. She guided it to Rick and Daryl, who needed to maneuver it into the holders on either side of the door without letting the door open.

Suddenly there was a lurch against the door as something heavy pushed persistently on it. Rick's foot slipped and he was propelled away.

"Shit!" Rick cursed as the board fell before solidly landing in the holder. The door lurched again, throwing Daryl back. It swung open, hitting Daryl's raised forearms, leaving little wood splinters biting into his skin. He didn't even feel it.

The dead Indian brave must have been forced out of the way because a hulking figure stood in the door. In life, it had been a muscular black man, working the railroads. In death, it was a wall. A hungry wall. It growled as it came through the door. Its skin was more grey than black now, chunks of it dropping off to expose white bone underneath.

Recovering together, Rick and Daryl crashed again into the door before the goliath got all the way out. It roared in frustration, snaking its arm around the edge of the door. Its fingers tangled in Rick's vest, destroying the fabric but missing his flesh. A deep noise of fear combined with anger exploded from Rick, starting as a quiet whine and developing into a howl. He shoved his body against the door harder with Daryl backing him up. The sickening sound of the edge of the door slicing into the arm filled the air. The creature fought against them but Rick groaned loudly, reaching deep into himself to pull from a reservoir of strength. It was enough too severe the arm at the shoulder. For a few seconds, the hand clenched in Rick's shirt before dropping to the ground, twitching and then lying still. Karen slid the wooden board home.

"Back closed!" Rick bellowed.

Around the front of the barn, they were dealing with their own problems. Despite the fact that the barn was the largest in Quarry, it still could not hold the entire herd. The building was brimming with a writhing mass of biting, hungry undead. The ones that had not squeezed in started to wander off course.

Deciding that he needed to act before more of them turned around, Glenn moved quickly. He was hiding behind one of the two large wooden doors; Otis was behind the other door. Pushing with all his muscle, he got his door shut. "Close it, Otis!" he yelled as he grabbed his gun out of his waistband. Several wendigos noticed him and he picked them off as fast as he could.

Otis forced his side closed and then fumbled with the long, thick board. Glenn covered him, blowing off the heads of any monsters getting within range of the man. The board landed in place, sealing hundreds of them inside. Not even a moment passed before the creatures started pounding at the newly closed front doors.

"Light it up!" Glenn shouted as he shot another one in the head as it neared Otis.

Maggie and Herschel were up in the loft waiting for that signal. They looked down at the herd locked in their barn, which was an extremely disturbing sight. Yet, hearing the gun fire outside seemed scarier.

Each of them held a torch of oil-soaked rags. Hershel readied the flint and steel to set them aflame.

He paused, looking his eldest daughter in the eye. "You ready for this? It's going to go up fast," he warned. Maggie bit her lip nervously but nodded affirmatively. Hershel struck the flint against the steel and sparks flew, setting the torches on fire.

Some of the undead below noticed their movements above. They raised their arms up, hissing at them. With a certain satisfaction, Maggie and Herschel tossed the flaming torches down into the crowd, aiming for the large piles of hay. As previously discussed, Herschel started down the ladder first. Maggie waited for a minute, making sure the hay caught fire. It did. She lingered longer than she was supposed to, fascinated as she watched the demons began to burn. It was strange to her that they didn't even seem to notice, still reaching up for her.

She breathed in the smell of smoke and knew she had to get out. Herschel was already down, his pistol out and firing at the leftovers of the herd. Maggie scrambled down the ladder and watched in horror as a group of walkers descended upon Otis.

Behind her, the barn burned.


	49. Chapter 49

I am so happy that everyone seemed to like Part 1 of the grand finale of this story! I truly can't believe that this story is going to make it to 50 chapters! It is more than double any of my previous stories. Part 2 is long because I just had to get all the action in. Thank you all for reading!

I do not own The Walking Dead or The Twilight Zone but I love those who do.

**Chapter 49**

Sophia and Carl watched with a mixture of fascination and horror at the scene below them. They were up on the third floor of the Greene's main farm house, which was one large attic room. There were big windows on all sides except the wall with the stairway, giving a wide view of the barn and the front where the road led into town. Only the pastures behind the house were hidden. The room had once been a play area for the Greene girls but lately it had become more of a hangout for the teenagers. Their old toys and games were still piled along one wall for whenever Beth was babysitting.

Currently, a number of those toys were being used by Beth in an attempt to distract Martinez's two young daughters. It was obvious that the two little girls knew that something bad was going on but they didn't really understand what. Luckily, they were putting on brave faces and allowing themselves to be entertained by Beth. Their older brother, who had a better understanding of the situation at hand, was doing his best to ignore what was happening outside. He and Duane Jones sat on the floor in the corner playing the card game War. Even though the room was filled with kids ranging from the ages of four to seventeen, it was eerily quiet. They spoke very little and only in whispers.

It had been decided that it would be safer for all the children in town to be gathered in one secure location. All the doors and windows on the ground floor were locked and boarded up. William, the farrier, was sitting on the stairs between the second and third floors, a shotgun clutched in his hands. Despite being a rugged strong man, after 40 years of working on horse hooves he'd developed a fair amount of arthritis and could not be running or climbing. So he guarded the children instead. If any wendigos broke into the house, he would go down fighting for his grandson and the others. Noah, Carl and Beth also had guns in case William fell.

The other advantage to having the children together in one safe, protected place was that their parents could do the jobs they'd been assigned without worrying about the fates of their children. It made the adults more efficient at killing the monsters. Nothing would devastate them more than to see their own child torn apart in front of them.

Sophia, Carl and Noah saw Rick and Daryl ride fast into the barn followed closely by the hungry masses of the undead. Sophia gasped and then quickly covered her mouth with her hand. There were so many of them! And they were so close to Daryl and Sky!

"Shit," Noah breathed out softly. Only the two next to him heard the curse but it had Carl glaring at the teenager. The guy was hanging out with Merle too much. He was even starting to sound like the abrasive older man.

They seemed to be holding their collective breaths as they watched the creatures flood into the barn. Sophia gripped Carl's hand and he gave her a squeeze back. However, his voice held a note of panic.

"They aren't all going to fit," he whispered. As if those down below could hear him and agreed, Glenn hurried to get his door closed and then covered Otis as the big man sealed the herd inside. That got a little cheer from those viewing things from above.

Unfortunately, that bit of joy was short lived. While the vast majority of the wendigos were locked within the barn, which was already starting to burn, a number still remained outside the walls. None of them were hesitating to go after the humans in sight. Glenn was doing a good job keeping the demons off of Otis until one came up behind him. It didn't look like Glenn saw it and Sophia crushed Carl's hand in fear for the man. Noah made a choking sound, like he wanted to call out a warning to Glenn but there was no way the man could hear him.

Glenn must have spotted the thing out of the corner of his eye because he ducked out of the way just as it reached out to grab him. Its arm swiped through the air over him. He brought the gun up to the thing's face and pulled the trigger.

Nothing happened.

Glenn looked at the gun, dumbfounded. The kids up in the attic couldn't tell if it was empty or jammed but it didn't matter. It wasn't working. The dead thing lunged for him and Glenn, being quick on his feet, scrambled backwards. It managed to grab hold of his foot and he tried desperately to shake it off. His face reflected his dread.

Maggie came running around the corner of the barn, took in the scene and ran to Glenn's side. Her pistol was out and she boldly positioned herself right next to the creature's head. It was distracted by Glenn's distressed movements and failed to notice her. She shot it in the head, blowing its brains out in a perpendicular angle to miss hitting her boyfriend.

"Oh, no. No!" Noah breathed out with intensity. His eyes were on the other corner of the barn. Sophia and Carl's gaze shifted in that direction and they were horrified to see a group of about a dozen wendigos descend on Otis. They just overwhelmed him, his gun falling uselessly to the ground. Even from up there, they could hear his screams. One of his legs was sticking out of the bodies piled on him and they could see it jerking wildly. After a minute, it stilled. He was beyond any help.

Sophia whirled around, tears flowing freely down her face. She just could not watch anymore. "We have to do something!" she cried.

"Hell, yeah!" Noah shouted as he threw the window open. Pulling out the gun that Rick had entrusted to him, he carefully took aim and fired. One of the wendigos tearing into Otis' prone form fell. None of the others seemed to notice. He did it again, missing the second time and hitting the side of the barn. He cursed loudly.

Carl was in the process of following suit, pushing open the other window. Sophia spun back around. Carl was aiming, one eye closed, his tongue sticking out the side of his mouth in concentration. His finger was starting to pull the trigger.

"Look out!" Sophia cried as Herschel darted around the corner. Carl jumped and they could see his bullet hit the dirt at Herschel's feet. He leapt away in shock. Then the old man's head whipped up to the open attic window. He yelled something but they couldn't hear it. His expression was angry.

Before Sophia could say anything to Carl, a wendigo sneaked around the barn corner. It was right behind Herschel and there was no way he was going dodge the thing like Glenn had. Without another thought, Carl raised the pistol and shot the demon right in the forehead. Herschel watched in astonishment as it dropped in front of him. Then he looked back up at the open attic window. His expression had changed to one of appreciation and he tilted his head at them.

Meanwhile, Noah had continued killing the ones feasting on poor Otis. Maggie and Glenn were finishing off the other scattered about until there were no more left in sight. By then, the barn was blazing. All the living beings around it had to pull back, the becoming too intense. Buckets full of water had been lined up next to the house in order to prevent any of the flames from spreading.

Knowing the immediate danger was over, Sophia sprinted out of the play room and down the stairs. Carl was right behind her. Beth was yelling at her to come back, that it wasn't safe yet but she was ignored. Sophia darted around William the farrier, who tried to stop her. He didn't know what exactly was going on but he could all the gun shots from the stairwell. Sophia was easily able to evade him but Carl was not so lucky. She could hear her best friend arguing with the large as she ran on. He was trying to explain that the worst was over but Sophia did not stick around to see if he succeeded.

She burst out the door, frantically searching for the one person she wanted to see alive. The one person she needed to be alive. She and her mom had been through so much pain in their lives. Sophia knew that losing him would be a blow she wasn't sure they could recover from.

Two figures came through the smoke from the back side of the barn. She paused, making sure she wasn't being deceived. The smoke cleared and Daryl and Rick strode towards the house. Both men looked pleased with themselves.

He was alive. She flew at him, almost knocking him over as she crashed into him. In a rare moment of great joy, Daryl actually laughed and lifted the girl into his arms. He hugged her with abandon. It was a new emotion for him, to feel this open and free.

Rick smiled at them but then saw his own son running for him and jogged towards the boy. Behind them, the barn continued to burn. There was no sign of movement now. Mission accomplished.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

Carol was watching the road when she saw Daryl speed by on Sky. She had been waiting up in the loft but they couldn't see anything in that direction. The tension had been killing her and finally she'd climbed down to the ground level. Andrea and Michonne had both protested against her action because it left her much more exposed if anything came through the door but Carol refused to listen to them.

She was peering through the very narrow opening between the barn doors facing the front of the farm. They all knew Daryl had basically put himself in between them and the coming danger. It was a task she knew he felt only he could do but she was very worried something would go wrong. Her body was so tense with anxiety, her muscles were already starting to ache.

As Daryl rode by, she couldn't help but admire him. He was so strong and brave. From this distance, he looked like a Greek god as the bright sun shone down on his dirty blonde hair and tanned skin. If the situation hadn't been so dire, she might have swooned a little at the image of him. His head turned for one moment towards the barn he knew they were in. There was no way he could see her but she gave him an encouraging smile anyway, hoping he knew just how she felt about him. They had never used the word love with each other but that's how she felt. She loved him. He'd saved her from a life on the road. He'd saved her from that Indian wendigo. He'd saved her child from a psychotic madman. If they both made it through this together, she was going to tell him.

He flew out of her sight down the road. Not one second later, the horde chasing him came into view. Oh god, he was in so much danger! A little whimper escaped her lips seeing them hunting him down in a frenzy. She fisted her hand and bit down on it to keep herself quiet. The mass of them surged after him.

"Carol! What's going on?" Andrea whispered fiercely at her from up in the hay loft.

She looked up at her best friend and Andrea could see wetness in Carol's eyes. "There's so many of them," she said in a low, strained voice. "They're following him." Andrea nodded, knowing that was all part of the plan but recognizing the pain Carol was feeling. Carol turned back to the crack in the door. The herd was still moving down the road after Daryl. It was a testament to just how many of the monsters there were.

"Carol, get up here! Right now!" Andrea whispered frantically at her again. Carol figured she was just nervous about her being in such a vulnerable position down there. When she glanced up, she was surprised to see that neither of the women was looking at her. They were looking out the window towards the little dairy barn.

"They must have come through the fields," Michonne murmured.

Realizing exactly what they were talking about, Carol scrambled up the ladder to the loft as fast and quietly as she could. She looked over Michonne's shoulder and saw about twenty wendigos shuffling around her farm. A couple more trickled in from the corn field even as she watched. Two of them seemed quite interested in the dairy barn, sniffing at the blockaded door. One tilted its head, like a dog that heard a sound. Carol held her breath, willing it to move on. Unfortunately, one of the animals inside must have made noise because suddenly the thing was desperately trying to get through the barrier. Another one followed suit and then another one.

"Shit!" Andrea spat out and pushed open the small window. Her gun started firing, blasting away those demons closet to the barn. Several of the creatures spotted them and were banging against the wall of the hay barn in an effort to catch them. However, the gun noise must have further disturbed the animals because quite a few more attempted to get into the other barn.

Andrea's gun clicked with an empty sound as it ran out of bullets. Carol quickly took her place. She had little experience firing guns and was disappointed when she missed on her first shot. Her second and third shots hit true though, dropping two of the undead threatening her farm. Andrea was hurrying to reload behind her.

Michonne had not been given a gun for obvious reasons. However, she had been left with her sword and now she had it out, ready for battle if needed. Carol had been thankful that Rick had even let the woman come with for defense, being that the last the sheriff had heard, she was an accused murderer.

The gun in Carol's hand clicked empty. She was about to move out of the way for Andrea when her eye caught a disturbing sight. On the side of the barn, one of the boards must have been loose or rotten because one of the small undead was pushing persistently at it. Carol could see that it was starting to give and if that thing got inside, her animals were dead. A number of other ones seemed to realize that this little one was on to something and crowded around it, pushing at the barn wall. Most of the ones in front had been dispatched but a few more came out of the field, joining the growing group on the side.

"Andrea, aim for the crowd right there!" Carol yelled. Andrea got in front of her and started shooting again. Carol reloaded as quickly as she could with hands shaking. Taking a fleeting look over Andrea shoulder, she cursed. She couldn't see the little one anymore. Was it still in the crowd or had it slipped inside? She needed to know, right now.

Andrea's gun was out and Carol passed her the fully loaded one instead of stepping up to the window herself. Then she turned and practically jumped down the ladder. Splinters lodged in her hands as she slid along the rough wood but she ignored the pain. Little did she know that Daryl was experiencing the same little pains in his arm at that very moment.

"Carol, no!" Andrea screamed at her but didn't follow.

"I have to save my farm! It's already on the brink of failure and if I lose my animals, I'll be ruined!" Carol cried back at her as she wrenched the wicked-looking scythe of the wall where all the tools hung. It was usually used for reaping the crops but now she was going to be reaping monsters.

Michonne was right behind her, ready to cover her back. The sprinted outside and around to the dairy barn, jumping over bodies of the dead. Rather than trying to go through the cluster of undead on the side, Carol went straight for the barricade. Squeezing between two tables, she shoved a chair out of the way and was able to get the door open just enough to let her slip through. Michonne cut down two wendigos in quick succession as they detached from the group on the side.

Carol surveyed the damage in the dairy barn. The little one, a dead boy probably younger than Sophia, was devouring one of the chickens. Another one had also broken in, a little bigger than the boy, possibly a young teen. It too was destroying one of her chickens. Bessie the cow was on the other side, in her stall. Even though Carol could hear the frightened movements of the animal, the two had not yet noticed her. They were engrossed in their chicken dinner.

A quick glance at the small opening almost made her smile. Andrea had managed to kill a large wendigo that must have been in the front of the crowd. Unable to understand the difference between pushing and pulling, the creatures behind the shot one had firmly wedged the body into the hole. They'd inadvertently cut off their entrance.

She gripped the scythe firmly, having only used it a few times before. With a deep breath, she swung at the nearest one, which had its back to her. The head was swiftly removed from the body and bounced away. The mouth was still opening and closing but it was harmless for the moment.

The larger one took become aware of her then and dropped the chicken carcass. It launched itself at her. Carol was barely able to bring the blade around in time before it hit her but she did manage it. It cut into the head and the thing fell into her. She could feel the dead, black blood splash out and cover the front of her. With a sharp cry, she pushed against the rotting flesh and got herself clear of it.

She recovered the surviving chickens in an effort to calm them down and then slipped back out of the door. Michonne was slicing through monster after monster as they came at her but she was gradually being pushed back. Carol lopped off the head of one of them but then when she swung at the next one, her blade lodged in its shoulder. It reached for her with grasping fingers and Carol was forced to release her hold on her the weapon. There was no more sound of gun fire and Carol had the sinking feeling that they had run out of bullets. Even though there weren't that many of the undead left, there was still enough of them to overwhelm the women without more weapons.

From the cornfield she was being drive towards, Carol saw four more wendigos emerge. She despaired that there would be no way to avoid them as well as the three that were pursing her now. Knowing that this was probably the end of her life, she just hoped that Daryl and Sophia would get through this. She knew that he would take care of her little girl and only wished that she could be there with them. Pulling out her small knife, she prepared to go down fighting.

The four wendigos from the field passed right by her and attacked the three others in front of her. Carol blinked in shock as she watched the figures using knives to dispatch them. Despite being covered in gore and smelling like rot, it was obvious they were human. And two of them she knew! With a breath of overwhelming relief, her knees gave out and she had to sit down on the ground to stop from falling.

Merle drove his knife through the eye of the one closest to her. As Randall and the other two took care of the couple stragglers attacking Michonne, Merle smiled down at her.

"Damn, woman. Yer a mess. Looks like ya'll had a bit of action here, didn't ya?" he laughed and then offered her his hand.

_Please note that it was established in the show that Martinez had children before the fall of civilization. It was never specified number or gender so I took a few liberties, as you saw. Also, please be aware that Rick and Daryl did not know that Otis died during the herd attack. When they came from the back of the barn, all they knew was that their mission had been accomplished and that was a joyful prospect. There will be a last chapter to wrap up loose ends._


	50. Chapter 50

Hi everyone! Here it is, the last chapter of this story. It's been a fun ride and I will see you all on the other side. Please note the Native American legend in this chapter comes from the webpage www dot angelfire dot com / ca / Indian / MagicArrows dot html. No tribe was listed for it.

I do not own The Walking Dead or The Twilight Zone but I love those who do.

**Chapter 50**

Daryl finished tying the leather straps to Sky's saddle, tugging at them to make sure they were fully secure. He looked down at the body of his friend, now carefully wrapped in a white sheet and securely bounded to a makeshift wooden stretcher. He alone had prepared the body and he alone would take it back home. Both Carol and Merle had offered to join him but this was something only he could do.

Walking Bird had saved all their lives. If he had not come to warn them when he did, they would have been wiped out by the herd of wendigos. Daryl had only just begun to realize what kind of life he could have with Carol and Sophia and all of that might have been lost before it even really started. Daryl did not know how he would ever repay his friend for his sacrifice but he knew that the Sioux brave would rest more peacefully back with his people.

As he walked alongside the contraption towards the Sioux village, he thought back to the day before. He had been so elated watching the barn burn with the horde of walking dead trapped inside. Young Sophia had been in his arms and Rick's hand had been on his shoulder. They had all accomplished something great and he'd never felt more accepted in his life. He, always an outcast in society, having the sheriff pat him on the back and telling him what a good job he'd done. Of course, the death of Otis had been somewhat of a damper, especially when his wife Patricia found out. Poor woman had gone into hysterics and Maggie had had to guide her inside the house.

On the way back to town, he'd almost completely lost it when he saw the two of them coming down the road. Carol was clutching onto Merle's arm, looking exhausted but determined to keep walking. Merle was grinning like an idiot. Both of them were totally covered with gore. Daryl's emotions were running high and he wasn't sure if he wanted to crush them both to him in a ferocious hug and never let go or murder them both for making him feel this way.

He'd been sure his brother was dead when Sky had been ridden back into town by Walking Bird. Daryl hadn't even fully dealt with the grief of that yet. Everything at the time had to be pushed to the side to conquer the immediate threat of the herd. Now here was the man, disgustingly dirty but looking as proud of himself as a cat that ate a canary. Daryl should have figured nothing, not even a plague of flesh-eating demons, could kill Merle Dixon.

Seeing Carol in that condition was actually more of a shock for him. He had left her safely in the loft of the hay barn. There was no way any of those creatures could have climbed up there to get her. That meant that she had climbed down. It made him want to punch something to know she was forced to face that kind of danger. They must have seen the rage on his face because his brother quickly interjected about how fierce she was, holding out her knife against the oncoming monsters. Andrea, who had been following behind Carol and Merle along with Randall and two newcomers, then piped up about her use of the scythe. She was described as a banshee. Carol's face had colored red at that and she'd looked away, mumbling about how she had to save her farm. Daryl's chest had filled with pride at that, pushing away most of his anger. Despite her being splattered with dead, black blood, he'd slid his hand behind her neck and pressed her forehead into his. "Prouda you," he'd told her. "Don't do it again." That had earned him a big, bright smile from her and he'd revealed in her warmth a moment before letting go of her to tackle his not-dead brother in a tight embrace. He hadn't even cared that he was getting stinking wendigo guts all over him.

His mind came back to the present task at hand as he neared the Indian camp. He saw a lot of activity, people moving around on various errands. That was good; he'd been worried when Walking Bird had arrived mortally wounded that the entire tribe had been destroyed. Looked like the majority of them had been unharmed.

Several of the braves standing watch spotted him and hustled to confront him before he could draw closer. Almost all of them brandished spears and arrows already notched in bows pointed in his direction. He even noticed that two of them held rifles. This was a new occurrence he had not seen previously when dealing with the native people.

The leading man jogged ahead of the other, his rifle held up ready to shoot him if he made one wrong move. Daryl held up his hands in a non-threatening manner. The brave paused and blinked at him. His eyes shifted over the horse. Then he brought the gun down, the muzzle now pointed toward the ground. His flattened palm went up and he barked out a command to the men coming up behind him. They all stopped, their own weapons relaxed. To Daryl, he spoke "Sky."

This had been one of the braves that had been with Walking Bird two nights earlier, Red Leaf. There had been such relaxing camaraderie with the men around the fire but then it had all changed with the arrival of the horse. It had saved all of their lives, most of the lives of their tribe. There was no way he could not recognize the animal that seemed to have come from the great spirits now.

He stepped forward and delicately touched her soft nose with a sense of awe. "Sky," he said again with reverence.

Daryl nodded and then indicated the stretcher she was dragging. "Walking Bird," he said, his voice also filled with reverence. Even though Daryl had spoken in English and Red Leaf knew very few of the white man's words, he understood the name of his kinsman. Stooping down, he gently moved the sheet away. It was obvious that the body had been prepared with care, the blood washed off and the hole in his head covered with hair.

Red Leaf stood up. He waved the other men forward, speaking softly to them in foreign words. One younger man broke off in a run back to the center of camp while the others began carefully untying the stretcher from Sky's saddle. As they lifted it on their shoulders and carried the body of his friend away, Chief Flying Eagle returned with the young brave. The old man was panting as he rushed towards Daryl, taking in the scene of the braves carrying away the sheet-covered corpse.

Flying Eagle came right up to Daryl, practically in his personal space and Daryl had to fight the urge to take a step backwards. The Chief examined him from head to toe and then turned to Red Leaf. The man spoke earnestly to his leader, once nodding to Daryl and other times pointing at Sky or the direction Walking Bird's body had gone. When he was done, Flying Eagle looked back at Daryl again. His expression was unreadable and one moment, Daryl feared that he was going to be blamed for Walking Bird's death. While it was true that the brave had been bitten, it was Daryl's own crossbow that had officially ended the man's life.

Flying Eagle pursued his lips and Daryl waited on edge for the man to speak. He was caught off-guard by the words.

"Thank you," Flying Eagle stated, saying each word clearly and distinctly. Then he did something even more unexpected. The chief of this Sioux tribe bowed to Daryl. Daryl watched in amazement as all the Sioux people around him bowed to him as well. It was their way of honoring him for sending his spirit animal to warn them of the danger and for bringing their brother back home. Daryl felt overwhelmed with emotion and just stood there as everyone straightened back up and went back to their normal activities.

Red Leaf put his hand on Daryl's shoulder, very reminiscent of Rick's same gesture the day before. The brave tilted his head at Daryl in gratitude and then walked away, leaving the redneck alone on the edge of the village.

**XXXXXXXX**

Carol laid on her back, staring up at the fluffy clouds gliding across the bright blue sky. She had brought out a big blanket from the house and spread it across the ground, intending to not do anything productive that day. She decided they'd all earned a rest day. Because of all their efforts yesterday, the town had been saved from the awful herd. The only small exceptions had been poor Otis, a few of her chickens and one of the Jones' pigs that had escaped out of the barn.

The cloud directly overhead had looked like a little house with smoke coming out of the chimney but it was slowly mutating into a big fish as it moved lazily. A cool breeze swept over her and if felt good as she laid under the warm sun. She kicked off her shoes then, burying her bare feet in the lush grass of her front yard.

She had almost drifted into unconsciousness when she felt his body plop down on the blanket next to her. It wasn't surprising that she hadn't heard him approaching; he was silent in his movements usually. Her eyes opened and squinted at him in the sunlight. He was watching her. It made her feel a little self-conscious but he twitched his lips up at her in a crooked smile, breaking the intensity of his gaze.

Rolling on her side to face him, she asked "How did it go with Walking Bird's people?"

"Good," he said simply.

She leaned in slowly and kissed him sweetly on the mouth. That brought on a full grin from him. She pulled back and laid a hand on his chest to halt him from trying to claim another kiss from her.

"Daryl, I have to say something. When I was facing down those walkers, thinking it was the end for me, I promised myself that if I ever saw you again I was going tell you everything inside of me." She paused, took a deep breath and then plunged right in. "I love you Daryl Dixon."

He stared at her, as if he was having difficulty comprehending her language. Then she saw him swallow thickly, his throat seeming to be working but no noise coming out of him. She cupped his face to calm him. "It's okay. I don't need to hear the words. I just needed to say them. I just needed you to know."

Daryl gave her a thankful look, glad that she understood how he was. Then he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her into him. His mouth captured hers in a passionate kiss. He hoped it conveyed the depth of his feelings for her even if he just was not at the point where he could say the words yet.

"Hey, stop making out on the lawn!" came an indignant voice from above them. They broke apart and looked up at Sophia, who seemed impossibly tall standing over them. Then the little girl smiled, secretly pleased to have seen the two adults kissing like that, and dropped down on the blanket next to her mother.

In her hands she carried a large, leather-bound book. It was the book of Indian Myths and Legends, the very same one that had brought her and Daryl together in the first place. When Carol had locked up the school house after the initial wendigo attacks, she just couldn't leave it there so she brought it home.

"Can you read us a story, mama?" Sophia asked, shifting the large volume into Carol's hands.

"Yeah, read us a story," Daryl agreed, flopping on his back and lacing his hands behind his head. It felt like it had been so long since she's read one of those myths to him.

"Okay," said Carol, opening the book and looking for just the right story. There, she found it. Turning to that page, she said "This is called _Magic Arrows_." She saw Daryl quirk one eyebrow up at that title and she couldn't suppress a little giggle at that. Then she started reading clearly.

_There was once a young man who wanted to go on a journey. His mother provided him with sacks of dried meat and pairs of moccasins, but his father said to him: "Here, my son, are four magic arrows. When you are in need, shoot one of them!" _

_The young man went forth alone and hunted in the forest for many days. Usually he was successful, but a day came when he was hungry and could not find meat. Then he sent forth one of the magic arrows, and at the end of the day there lay a fat Bear with the arrow in his side. The hunter cut out the tongue for his meal, and of the body of the Bear he made a thank-offering to the Great Mystery. _

_Again he was in need and again in the morning he shot a magic arrow, and at nightfall beside his camp-fire he found an Elk lying with the arrow in his heart. Once more he ate the tongue and offered up the body as a sacrifice. The third time he killed a Moose with his arrow and the fourth time a Buffalo. _

_After the fourth arrow had been spent, the young man came one day out of the forest and before him there lay a great circular village of skin lodges. At one side, some little ways from the rest of the people, he noticed a small and poor tent where an old couple lived all alone. At the edge of the wood he took off his clothes and hid them in a hollow tree. Then, touching the top of his head with his staff, he turned himself into a little ragged boy and went toward the poor tent. _

_The old woman saw him coming and said to her old man: "Old man, let us keep this little boy for our own! He seems to be a fine, bright-eyed little fellow and we are all alone." _

_"What are you thinking of, old woman?" grumbled the old man. "We can hardly keep ourselves and yet you talk of taking in a ragged little scamp from nobody knows where!" _

_In the meantime the boy had come quite near and the old wife beckoned to him to enter the lodge. _

_"Sit down, my grandson, sit down!" she said kindly; and, in spite of the old man's black looks, she handed him a small dish of parched corn, which was all the food they had. _

_The boy ate and stayed on. By and by he said to the old woman: "Grandmother, I should like to have grandfather make me some arrows!" _

_"You hear, my old man?" said she. "It will be very well for you to make some little arrows for the boy." _

_"And why should I make arrows for a strange little ragged boy?" grumbled the old man. However, he made two or three and the boy went hunting. In a short time he returned with several small birds. The old woman took them and pulled off the feathers, thanking him and praising him as she did so. She quickly made the little birds into soup, of which the old man ate gladly, and with the soft feathers she stuffed a small pillow. _

_"You have done well, my grandson!" he said; for they were really very poor. _

_Not long after, the boy said to his adopted grandmother: "Grandmother, when you see me at the edge of the wood yonder, you must call out: 'A Bear! There goes a Bear!' " _

_This she did and the boy again sent forth one of the magic arrows, which he had taken from the body of his game and kept by him. No sooner had he shot than he saw the same Bear that he had offered up, lying before him with the arrow in his side! _

_Now there was great rejoicing in the lodge of the poor old couple. While they were out skinning the Bear and cutting the meat in thin strips to dry, the boy sat alone in the lodge. In the pot on the fire was the Bear's tongue, which he wanted for himself. _

_All at once a young girl stood in the doorway. She drew her robe modestly before her face as she said in a low voice: "I come to borrow the mortar of your grandmother!" _

_The boy gave her the mortar and also a piece of the tongue which he had cooked, and she went away. _

_When all of the Bear meat was gone, the boy sent forth a second arrow and killed an Elk, and with the third and fourth he shot the Moose and the Buffalo as before, each time recovering his arrow. _

_Soon after, he heard that the people of the large village were in trouble. A great Red Eagle, it was said, flew over the village every day at dawn and the people believed that it was a bird of evil omen, for they no longer had any success in hunting. None of their braves had been able to shoot the Eagle and the chief had offered his only daughter in marriage to the man who should kill it. _

_When the boy heard this, he went out early the next morning and lay in wait for the Red Eagle. At the touch of his magic arrow, it fell at his feet and the boy pulled out his arrow and went home without speaking to any one. _

_But the thankful people followed him to the poor little lodge and when they had found him, they brought the chief's beautiful daughter to be his wife. Lo, she was the girl who had come to borrow his grandmother's mortar! _

_Then he went back to the hollow tree where his clothes were hidden, and came back a handsome young man, richly dressed for his wedding. _

Carol closed the book and let it slip out of her hands onto the blanket.

"That was a nice story," Sophia commented then reached over and poked Daryl, eliciting a groan from the man. "Do you have any magic arrows?"

Daryl chuckled at that. "All ma arrows are magic, kid." Sophia giggled and laid back down.

Carol looked up at the sky again, her hands clasping the two people she loved best in the world lying on either side of her. Together they watched the clouds moving across the beautiful sky.

**XXXXXXXXX**

"_There is a fifth dimension beyond that which is known to man. It is a dimension as vast as space and as timeless as infinity. It is the middle ground between light and shadow, between science and superstition, and it lies between the pit of man's fears and the summit of his knowledge. This is the dimension of imagination. It is an area which we call the Twilight Zone."_

_I'm Rod Serling and I hope you've enjoyed this tale of __mystery, horror, friendship, love and bravery. __Even in an isolated world with the threat of monsters on their doorsteps and no help around the corner, our heroes were able to ban together to face the threat. They may never feel as safe and carefree as they did before darkness came into their little corner of existence but at least they continue living for another day…in the Twilight Zone._

**The End**

There you have it! "Hell Fire Quarry" is complete. It was a wild ride and I want to thank everyone who gave this strange story a chance. I love all of you who have followed, favorite and commented on this story. You are all so wonderful and I will be PMing all of you who comment in order to thank you personally. I have made several new friends from this who I treasure talking with about everything TWD and Caryl, including Mama2elves, Maeflower3, SOA Loving Mom, AffairwithCrossbow, Jodie Kay, Yazzy x and BLuIcy.

I need to definitely thank Haitus80 and HRGHfan35 for being my lovely beta readers. You two rock and thank you for helping make my writing the best it can be. HRGHfan35 gets a special acknowledgement because without her, this story never would have existed. It was her idea to write a western AU and I never would have thought of it on my own.

Lastly, I would like to officially announce that I am going to writing a sequel to this story. It is not going to be like this, but much shorter and more fun. There will be much less emphasis on walkers/wendigos and more so Daryl/Carol. The premise is that in order to adequately thank Daryl for saving most of the Sioux village by sending them his spirit animal Sky in warning of the herd, Chief Flying Eagle presents Daryl with a gift…a wife. How are Daryl and Carol going to deal with this development?


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